UC-NRLF 


[A  TRUE  PICTURE  IS  TRUE  ART" 


But  a  banjo  cyarn't  stan'  'spons'bul  fur  de  debil/w/tf/  hit  brings, 
When  a  niggah  wid  a  happy  heart  is  settin'  ''hind  de  strings 
See  "The  Old  Banjo" 


De  Namin'  ob  de  Twins 

AND    OTHER    SKETCHES 
FROM  THE  COTTON  LAND 


BY 

MARY  FAIRFAX  CHILDS 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 

EDWARD  H.  POTTHAST 


NEW  YORK 

B.  W.  DODGE  &  COMPANY 

1908 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1908,  BY 
B.  W.  DODGE  &  COMPANY 


Co  t&e  SIntteto  SDattjj&trrfl  of  t&e 

SCATTERED  FAR  AND  WIDE  THROUGHOUT  OUR  GOODLY  LAND, 

THESE  SIMPLE  TALES  OF  THEIR  OWN  SIMPLE 

FOLK  ARE  DEDICATED. 


FOREWORD 

DIALECT  stories  from  gifted  pens  have  already  left  lit 
tle  untold  of  the  old-time  negro,  a  dusky  people  who  were 
once — pardon  the  paradox — as  sunshine  in  the  Southern 
homes  over  which  they  lovingly  and  loyally  presided. 

Those  rare  writers  of  prose — Ruth  MacEnery  Stuart, 
Thomas  Nelson  Page,  James  Lane  Allen  and  others — 
have  written  enough  to  show  the  younger  generations  of 
the  love  that  existed  between  families  and  their  household 
servants,  a  love  which  even  the  long,  lonely  separations 
after  the  war  could  not  eliminate. 

By  incidents  of  touching  nature  we  are  constantly  re 
minded  that  many  of  them  still  feel  the  loss  of  those  old 
plantation  days,  when  they  rejoiced  in  the  freedom  of 
"cabin,  'taters,  an'  possum" ;  where  they  took  no  thought 
of  the  morrow,  replete  with  the  assurance  that  in  sick 
ness,  as  in  health,  "ole  Marstah  an'  ole  Miss"  would  com 
fort  and  support  them. 

And  these  incidents  have  so  appealed  to  the  writer  that, 
here  in  her  Northern  home,  she  has  not  been  able  to  re 
sist  the  pleasure  of  recording  them,  thus  living  again — 
as  it  were — odd  moments  with  that  simple  and  loving  folk, 
whose  real  existence  is  a  cherished  remembrance  of  her 
childhood  in  Kentucky. 

(MRS.)  MARY  FAIRFAX  CHILDS. 

Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

7 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 15 

RODS'  HIGH,  CHICKEN 21 

MARSE  LINKUM'S  MISTEK 25 

DE  BAPTIZIN'  o'  BLACK  BETTY 31 

"DOWN  SOUF" 35 

AUNT  GLORY'S  MARRIAGE  CERTIFICATE 39 

MAH  HONEY 47 

DE  OLE  BANJO — a  Christmas  Memory 51 

DE  BARN  DANCE 57 

THE  "OLD  MASTERS" 61 

LITTLE  ABE'S  SOLILOQUY 67 

PARSON  PETE'S  SERMON 71 

MANDY  AND  "OLE  Miss";  OR,  AFTER  MANY  DAYS.  .  79 

WHEN  EBENIN'  COMES 85 

OLE  JOE  AN'  DE  YALLER  MULE;  OR,  "FAITHFUL 

UNTO  DEATH" 89 

"NAME  THIS  CHILD" 97 

OLE  'LIJAH'S  WEDDIN' — a  Plantation  Episode 101 

AUNT  'LIZA'S  VISIT  NORTH 107 

DE  "YANKEE"  BUCKEYE 117 

DE  FAMBLY  TREE 123 

DE  LAS'  "WILL  AN'  TESTiimnr 131 

MAMMY  SUKEY'S  BURYIN'..    ,. •  •••.•• *37 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

BUT  A  BANJO  CYARN'T  STAN'  'SPONS'BUL  FUR  DE 

DEBiumnf  HIT  BRINGS, 
WHEN  A  NIGGAH  WID  A  HAPPY  HEART  Is  SETTIN' 

'HiND  DE  STRINGS Frontispiece 

"WHAT  I  GWINE  NAME  MAH  CEELY'S  TWINS?   I 
DUNNO  HONEY,  YIT" 15 

"I  's  HEERD  o'  GIN'L  LEE  AN'  GIN'L  GRANT — BUT  I 
AIN'  NEBER  HEERD  o'  NO  'GIN'L  HOUSEWUK"'..     35 

"On,  SAH,  I  's  JES  DRAFT  IN  TER  SEE  EF  my  OLE 
MASTAH'S  HEAH" 61 

IN  FOND  EMBRACE  Two  WOMEN,  FROM  THE  ALMS 

HOUSE,  WALKED  AWAY, 
THE  ONE  WAS  WHITE,  THE  ONE  WAS  BLACK,  AND 

BOTH  WERE  OLD  AND  GRAY 79 

"LAWD!  MARSTAH,  I  DONE  CHANGE  MAH  MIND — 
I  GWINE  TEK  FIDDLIN'  JIM" 101 

"Dis  MIZ'RY — IN — DE — BACK  's  NIGH  GONE,  so  PUT 

DAT  PEN  AWAY, 

AN'  WE'LL  MEK  OUT  Dis  TESTIWWJ  AGIN  SOME 
UDDAH  DAY  " 131 

ii 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 


The  very  fact  that  negroes  made  no  attempt  toward  be- 
ing  humorous  rendered  them,  as  a  race,  irresistibly  so. 

The  names  decided  on  by  "Granny"  for  her  Ceely's 
twins  are  borne  by  two  little  darkies  in  Albemarle  County, 
Virginia. 


"  What  I  gwine  name  Mah  Ceely's  twins  ?  I  dunno  honey,  yi 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

> 

WHAT  I  gwine  name  mah  Ceely's  twins  ? 

I  dunno,  honey,  yit, 

But  I  is  jes  er-waitin'  fer  de  fines'  I  kin  git. 
De  names  is  putty  nigh  run  out, 

So  many  niggahs  heah, 
I  'clar*  dey  's  t'ick  as  cotton-bolls  in  pickin'-time  o'  yeafi. 

But  't  ain'  no  use  to  'pose  to  me 

Ole  secondary  names, 

Lak  'Lizabeth  an'  Josephine,  or  Csesah,  Torm,  an*  James, 
'Ca'se  dese  heah  twinses  ob  mah  gal's 

Is  sech  a  difFent  kind, 
Dey  's  'titled  to  de  grandes'  names  dat  ary  one  kin  find. 

Fer  sho  dese  little  shiny  brats 
Is  got  de  fus'-cut  look, 

So  mammy  wants  fine  city  names,  lak  you  gits  out  a  book  ; 
I  ax  Marse  Rob,  an'  he  done  say 
Some  'rageous  stuff  lak  dis: 
He  'd  call  de  bruddah  Be'lzeZmfr,  de  sistah 


Or  Alphy  an'  Omegy  —  de 
Beginnin'  an'  de  en'  — 

But  den,  ob  co'se  no  man  kin  tell,  what  mo*  d«  Lawd  '11 
sen' 


DE  NAMIN*  OB  DE  TWINS 

Fer  de  pappy  ob  dese  orphums — 

You  heah  me?— I  11  be  boun', 

\Vhile  dey  's  er-crawlin'  on  de  flo',  he  '11  be  er-lookin' 
roun* ; 

'Ca'se  I  done  seen  dem  Judas  teahs          *V" 

He  drap  at  Ceely's  grabe, 

A-peepin'  Tiind  his  hanlcercher,  at  ole  Tim's  yaller  Gabe ; 
A-mekin*  out  to  moan  an*  groan, 
Lak  he  was  gwine  'o  bus* — 
Lawd !  honey,  dem  dat  howls  de  mos',  gits  ober  it  de  fus'. 

Annynias  an*  Saphiry, 

Sis  Tab  done  say  to  me, 
But  he'p  me,  Lawd !  what  do  she  'spec*  dese  chillun  gwine 

'obe? 
'Sides,  dem  names  's  got  er  cur'us  soun* — 

You  says  I  's  hard  to  please  ? 
Well,  so  'ould  any  granny  be,  wid  sech  a  pa'r  as  dese. 

Ole  Pahson  Bob  he  'low  dat  I 

Will  suttinly  be  sinnin', 
Onless  I  gibs  'em  names  dat  starts  'em  right  in  de  be- 

ginnin' ; 
"Iwilla"  fer  de  gal,  he  say, 

F'om  de  tex'  "I  will  a-rise," 

An*  dat  'ould  show  she  's  startin'  up,  todes  glory  in  de 
skies ; 

An'  fer  dis  man  chile,  Aberham— 

De  fardah  ob  'em  all — 

Or  else  Belshazzah,  who  done  writ  dat  writin'  on  de  wall ; 

16 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

But  Pahson  Bob — axcitsc  me,  Lawd ! — 

Hed  bettah  sabe  his  brcf 
To  preach  de  gospel,  an'  jes  keep  his  'visin'  to  hisse'f ; 

Per  nary  pusson,  white  nor  black, 

Ain'  gib  no  p'int  to  me 
'Bout  namin'  dese  heah  Chris'mus  gifs,  asleep  on  granny's 

knee ; 
(Now  heshaby — don*  squirm  an*  twis', 

Be  still,  you  varmints,  do! 

You  ain'  gwine  hab  no  niggah  names  to  tote  aroun'  wid 
you!) 

'Ca'se  on  de  questiom  ob  dese  names 

I  sho  is  hed  mah  mine 

P^rzactly  an'  perddtdly  done  med  up  all  de  time ; 
Per  mah  po'  Ceely  Ann — yas,  Lawd, 

Jes  nigh  afo'  she  died, 

She  name'  dis  gal,  "Neu-ral-gy,"  her  boy  twin,  "Hom-i- 
cide." 


ROCS'  HIGH,  CHICKEN 


DE  NAMIN*  OB  DE  TWINS 

Mah  rnouf  's  a-wat'rin',  whe'r  or  not- 

Roos'  high,  chicken — roos?  high; 
An'  when  you  's  b'ilin'  in  de  pot, 
Don't  tell  me  dat  you  's  mighty  hot, 
An'  dat  mah  'vice  you  cl'ar  furgot — 
Root'  high,  chicken — rocs'  high. 


22 


MARSE  LINKUM'S  MISTER 


When  President  Lincoln — through  Congress — freed  the 
negroes  of  the  United  States,  at  one  fell  swoop,  he  gained 
for  the  moment  the  plaudits  of  the  disinterested  world. 

Since  then  wise  men,  in  reflective  moments,  have  ques 
tioned  the  prudence  of  his  act;  arguing  that  gradual 
emancipation  would  have  been  the  more  judicious  and 
kindlier  course  to  pursue. 

For  the  younger  generation  the  edict  appeared  as  a 
golden  key,  opening  a  gateway  to  the  sunny  paths  of 
Freedom ;  but  to  those  whose  thoughtful  faces  and  bended 
forms  told  of  declining  years  it  was  indeed  but  a  pass 
port  to  barren  pastures  'neath  sullen  skies. 


MARSE  LINKUM'S   MISTEK 

SAY,  Judy,  does  you  see  now  whar  de  Freedom  part 

comes  in, 

Ou'  freedom  dat  de  sojer-boys  dey  fight  so  hard  ter  win? 
I  neber  knowed  what  slab'ry  wuz,  'til  jes  heah  sence  de 

war, 
But  now  I  's  fetter'd  wid  his  chains,  mo*  strong  dan  I 

kin  b'ar. 

Dey  presses  in  de  body,  an'  dey  wuks  into  de  mind, 
Till  comfo't  an'  de  peace  o'  Gawd  I  kin  no  longah  find ; 
Caze  co'se  you  ain't  gwine  'joy  de  Lawd — dat  fac'  He 

sho  mus'  know — 
When  hungah  'n  col'  come  stalkin'  in — 'out  knockin'  at 

de  do'. 

Great  King!  ef  I  could  jes  furgit  dem  days  afo'  de  war, 
When  Marstah  seed  we  hed  enough — yaas,  honey,  an* 

ter  spar' — 

An'  Miss  Furginia,  she  so  kind  a-tendin'  us — Lawd,  me ! 
I  wush  Marse  Linkum  warn't  so  quick  a-settin'  ole  folks 

free. 

He  mought  'a*  knowed,  wid  white  folks'  sence,  he  done 

it  all  too  soon — 
He    sprung  hit  lak  a  huntin'-dog  's  a-pouncin'  on  a 

coon — 

25 


DE  NAMlft'  OB  DE  TWINS 

He  mought  V  know'd  de  old  fo'ks  'ould  'a'  drapt  erlong 

de  way, 
Lak  corn-stalks  in  de  furrows  on  a  cold  an'  windy  day. 

"Dis  Freedom  's  good  enough,  o'  co'se,  fur  Ceely,  Dan 
an'  Dick, 

Caze  dem  young  ones  wuz  lakly,  an'  could  1'arn  de  free 
dom  trick ; 

But  to  ole  folks  wid  stiff en'd  j'ints,  an'  dimmin'  in  de 
eye, 

'Twuz  lak  you  tu'n  a  ole  blin'  horse  out  on  de  fiel'  to  die. 

"At  Mastah's  home  't  wuz  sho  'nough  free — de  clo'es,  de 

light,  de  wood, 
De  corn-pone,  an*  de  possum-fat — Lawd,  Judy !  wa'n't  it 

good? 
No  lan'-lawd  come  dar,  granny  chile,  a-pushin'  fur  de 

pay— 

Dat  po'-trash  man  cyarn*  know  dat  dis  heah  Js  Dan'el 
Webstah  Clay— 

"De  ole  plantation  coachman,  what  drobe  his  fo'-in-han*, 
An'  sot  ez  high,  an'  chaw'd  ez  large,  ez  any  in  de  Ian' ; 
I  gwine  'form  him  mah  credik  's  good — ole  Mastah  done 

sed  so — 
An*  wid  dis  sassin'  'bout  mah  rint,  he  bettah  hed  go  slow. 

"I  knows  down  Souf  we  's  in  de  fiel'  at  risin*  ob  de  sun, 
But  den  old  Mastah  med  it  good,  fur  eb'ry  stroke  we 
done; 

26 


MARSE  LINKUM'S  MISTEK 

An'  when  de  night-time  come  aroun',  my !  how  de  ban 
jos  rung, 

An*  how  dem  niggahs  pat  an*  dance,  an*  how  dey  laugh 
an*  sung. 

"You  mind  de  time  ole  cross-eyed  Pete,  an*  bandy-legged 

Joe, 
One  night  done  dance  de  hoe-down,  'til  dey  fa'rly  shuk 

de  flo', 
An*  de  white  folks  from  de  house  come  down— ole  Mas- 

tah  wid  de  res' — 
An'  say  he  'd  gib  a  fiddle  to  de  one  dat  done  de  bes'  ? 

"De  worl'  's  cl'ar  done  furgot  us  sence  Marse  an*  Miss  is 

gone, 

An'  lef '  us  settin'  heah  to  wait  de  blowin'  ob  de  hawn ; 
Great  Mastah!  please  don'  you  furgit  to  put  in  writin' 

down, 
Dat  we  's  to  tread  de  golden  streets,  an'  w'ar  de  golden 

crown — 

"Gaze  sho  we  's  'arned  a  'title  cl'ar  to  mansions  in  da 

skies/ 
Whar  Jesus  at  de  frone  o'  grace  will  wipe  ou'  weepin' 

eyes, 
Fur  we  is  done  de  bes'  we  could — de  white  folks  cyarnt 

do  mo' — 
So  tell  de  Angel  standin*  dar,  right  by  de  heb'nly  do', 

"A-pickin*  out  de  ole  white  sheep,  from  dem  what 's  dyed 

in  sin, 
To  keep  a  good  look-out  fur  us,  an'  sholy  let  us  in; 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

He  cyarnt  mek  no  mistek,  good  Lawd!  caze  I  kin  tell 

you  why: 
'Mah  Judy,  she  's  lame  in  de  back ;  an5  me,  blind  in  one 

eye.' 

"An*  Mammy,  when  we  gits  in  dar,  an*  heahs  'em  bust  an' 

sing 

De  praises  ob  de  Bressed  Lamb,  an'  glory  to  de  King, 
I  b'liebs  I  '11  hunt  Marse  Linkum  up,  an'  jes  will  let  him 

know 
Dat  we  did  hab  de  closes'  shake  a-gittin'  f roo  dat  do' ; 

"Caze,  dough  he  done  a  righteous  ac',  I  reckons,  on  de 

whole, 
De  freedom  dat  he  gib  we  finds  wa'n't  helpin'  to  de 

soul. 
An*  so  I  gwine  'o  say  to  him :  'Marse  Linkum — 'scuzin* 

me — 
You  sho  did  mek  one  big  mistek  a-settin'  ole  folks 

free!"* 


28 


DE  BAPTIZIN'  Q'  BLACK  BETTY 


DE  BAPTIZIN'  O'   BLACK  BETTY 

"Lawd  bless  you !  Sistah  Betty  Jane, 

What  mek  you  trimble  so? 
When  you  comes  outen  Tadpole  Pan', 
You  '11  be  'ez  white  ez  snow.' " 

"No,  Bruddah,  I  ain'  ax  dat  much, 

But  arter  I  's  dipt  down 
I  '11  sho  be  mo'  dan  satusfied 
Ter  come  up— choc'late  brown." 


"DOWN  SOUF" 


33 


The  idea  may  have  prevailed  in  parts  of  our  American 
land  that,  amongst  other  misfortunes,  the  negro  of  the 
South  was  overworked. 

The  impression  is  entirely  an  erroneous  one,  for  the 
servitors  were  so  numerous  that  the  servitude  became 
light;  and  many  a  half-grown  girl  did  no  more  than 
"keep  de  flies  offen  ole  Miss" — or  every  day  polish  the 
fine  old  mahogany  bed-posts. 


34 


I 's  heerd  o'  Gin'l  Lee  an'  Gin'l  Grant— but  I  am'  neber  heerd 
o'  no  'gin'l  housewuk'  " 


"DOWN    SOUF" 

A  SHORT  time  after  the  War  a  woman  in  Boston  went 
to  an  Intelligence  Office  to  secure  a  servant. 

Amongst  others  she  was  particularly  attracted  by  a 
fine-looking  colored  girl  about  sixteen  years  old,  with 
whom  the  following  conversation  took  place: 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"  'Ria,  'Ria  Pin'leton,  ma'am." 

"What  are  you  here  for  ?  What  kind  of  work  can  you 
do?" 

"Lawd!  I  don'  know,  'm — mos'  any  kind,  ma'am." 

"Well,  what  have  you  done?"  persisted  the  would-be 
employer,  "for  I  am  looking  for  a  girl  to  do  general 
housework.  Do  you  think  you  can  manage  it?" 

"Lawd!  I  don'  know,  'm.  What  is  dat?  I  's  heerd 
o'  Gin'l  Lee  an'  Gin'l  Grant — but  I  ain'  neber  heerd  o'  no 
'gin'l  housewuk.' " 

"Oh,"  said  the  woman,  "I  mean  a  girl  who  can  do 
everything,  you  know — cooking,  washing,  ironing,  clean 
ing,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  work.  Have  you  ever  cooked  ?" 

"Lawd !  no,  'm ;  I  ain'  nuver  'zactly  cooked.  I  's  been 
in  de  kitchen  when  de  cookin'  was  bein'  done,  but  Aunt 
Ailsie  an'  Aunt  Marfy  dey  done  ole  Missus'  cookin'." 

"Well,  can  you  wash  and  iron?" 

"Lawd !  no,  'm ;  I  ain'  nuver  done  no  washin'  nor  iron- 
in',  nuddah.  Sis  Tab  an'  Aunt  Jinny  done  ole  Missus' 

35 


DE  NAMIN'   OB  DE   TWINS 

washin'  an'  ironin'.  No,  ma'am — umph,  umph — I  ain' 
eben  do  mah  own  clo'es.  I  ain'  sho  I  kin  suit  you  in  de 
washin'  an'  ironin'  business — but  den  you  mought  try 
me." 

"Well,  I  guess  you  know  all  about  housecleaning,  eh  ?" 

"No,  not  'zactly,  'm,  caze  Nervy  an'  Venus  dey  done 
all  Missus'  housecleaning — wid  Mose  an'  'Lijah  ter  wash 
de  windahs  an'  clean  de  paint,  an'  ole  Uncle  Zeke  ter 
shine  de  flo's.  No,  'm,  I  ain' — nuver — done — dat — nud- 
dah.  Lawd,  Lawd!"  (reflectively)  "I  'clar,  I  didn'  know 
how  little  I  did  do  home — down  Souf." 

"Well,  I  suppose  you  waited  on  the  table,  didn't  you  ?" 

"No,  ma'am ;  you  suttinly  is  strikin'  on  de  wrong  p'int 
now.  Pomp  an'  Caesah  wait  on  ole  Marstah's  table — an* 
whoopee!  dey  shy  me  outen  dat  dinm'-room  do'  ef  I  so 
much  ez  put'  a  foot  in  dar.  No,  ma'am,  I  ain'  neber  wait 
on  no  table,  nuddah." 

"Well,  what— did— you — do?"  asked  the  astonished 
woman,  whose  curiosity  was  now  thoroughly  aroused. 
"What  did  you  do  down  South,  I  should  like  to  know  ?" 

"Lawd !  'm — he !  he !  he — I  use  mos'ly  to — keep — de — 
•flies — off  en — ole — Miss,  an'  hunt — 'er — specs." 

"Now,  lady,"  said  another  bright-looking  colored  girl 
who  was  standing  near,  and  evidently  interested  in  the 
conversation,  "I  know'd  dat  gal  wa'n't  gwine  'o  suit  you, 
caze  she  don'  know  nuffin'.  She  ain'  had  no  'speunce  lak 
/  's  had.  You  bettah  tek  me,  caze  when  I  'uz  down  home 
I  use  ter — er — er — er — open  de  shettahs  in  de  mawnin', 
an'  rub—ole  Missus'— bed-pos'es!" 


AUNT  GLORY'S  MARRIAGE  CERTIFICATE 


AUNT  GLORY'S  MARRIAGE  CERTIFICATE 

"You  ain'  neber  heerd  'bouten  dis  heah  c'tificum  busi 
ness — am'  you,  Miss  Sally  ?  Lawd,  honey !  Mose  is  plum 
nigh  tunned  fool  'bouten  it — say,  he  gwine  hab  one  writ 
up,  an'  put  in  er  shiny  frame  fer  mah  Chris' mus  gif.  He 
'low  it  '11  look  rale  eddicated  fer  ter  see  dat  readin'  an' 
writin'  wid  de  names  o'  Glory  an'  Mose  bof  jined  terged- 
der,  a-hangin'  on  de  wall.  But  de  S'ord  o'  de  Sperrit  sho 
will  come  in,  Miss  Sally,  an'  Vide  de  sheep  f'um  de  goats 
— caze  Ole  Glory  ain' — gwine — hab — none — ob — it.  Here 
I  's  been  a-cookin'  fer  dat  no-'count  niggah  sence  long 
afo'  de  Wah,  an'  a-puttin'  up  wid  all  his  debbilwwf;  but 
jes  ez  sho  ez  he  go  ter  tie  me  down  wid  one  o'  dem  dar 
c'tificums — g'long,  chile — Ole  Glory  won'  be  dar  ter  tie. 

"No,  Miss  Sally,  I  ain'  er  'lowin'  ter  ac'  lak  de  po' 
white  trash  heah  in  Sleepy  Creek,  who — he'p  me  King ! — 
is  er  buyin'  dem  c'tificums ;  an'  ef  Mose  Turnah  come  in 
dis  cabin  wid  one  o'  dem  ongodly  perceedin's — 'fo'  Gawd ! 
— Glory  gwine  'o  git  out. 

"You  ax  how  all  dis  heah  fuss  come  stirred  up? 

"Well,  honey,  one  day  when  I  was  stan'in'  heah  in  de 
cabin  do',  a-puffin'  mah  ole  corncob  pipe,  all  peaceable- 
lak,  dere  comes  erlong  one  o'  dem  dar  meddlin'  mens 
f'om  Conneticul,  an',  ez  he  hed  a  lean,  hongry  look,  I  ax 
him  in  de  house  to  tek  a  cheer. 

39 


DE  NAMIN'   OB  DE   TWINS 

"Well,  he  sot  hisse'f  down,  an'  I  sees  'im  a-castin'  his 
eyes  roun'  de  room,  lak  he  was  a-s'archin'  fer  some'in' 
nudder — when  all  ter  once  he  bus'  out  er  sayin':  'Miss 
Turner,  whar  is  yo'  c'tificum?' 

"  'C'tificum,'  I  says.     'Name  o'  Gawd !  man,  what  is 
dat?' 
.  "  'De  c'tificum  ob  yo'  mayage,'  he  say. 

"  'Well,  dat  ain'  pesterin'  me  none,  mistah,'  I  says. 
'What  do  hit  look  lak?' 

"  'Wah,  mah  good  'oman,'  he  say,  'hit  am  de  writin* 
what  show  dat  you  an'  yo'  husband  was  'nited  by  de  law 
an'  de  Gospel,  an'  is  detarmine  fer  to  lib  tergedder  all.de 
days  ob  yo'  life. 

"  'I  is  a  preachah  ob  de  Wud,'  he  say,  'an'  I  's  come 
down  Souf  to  show  de  cullud  ladies  an'  gemmen  de  right 
way  ter  lib.  I  wants  ter  sell  'em  all  certificums,  so  I  's 
been  a-goin'  roun'  yo'  town  a-seein'  ef  de  fust  famblies 
won'  buy  'em,  an'  I  heerd  Mistah  Turnah  say  he  'd  lak  to 
hab  one.' 

"  'Well,  look  heah,  man,'  I  says,  'we  hain'  got  no  c'tifi 
cum,  an' — he'p  me,  Lawd ! — we  ain'  gwine  git  none,  nud 
der;  caze  one  o'  dem  c'tificums  mek  you  feel  jes  lak  a 
kickin'  mule  in  de  harness,  an'  ef  you  eber  is  broke  a 
mule  you  knows  what  dat  is. 

"  'Bruddah  'Lisha  Jones,  down  heah,'  I  says,  'he  got 
one  o'  dem  fool  t'ings  when  de  Elder  ma'y  him  to  Sis 
Lucindy  Brown;  an'  Sis  tole  me  dat  he  put  it  in  er  gol' 
frame  on  de  wall,  an'  ebry  time  she  see  it  lookin'  at  her, 
an'  a-bindin'  her  lak  a  fettah,  she  feel  herse'f  a-loosin'  an' 
a-loosin'  f'om  him,  twell  she  jes  natchelly  could'n  stan' 
it.  So  she  done  leab  him — an'  he  a  preachah-man,  too — 

40 


AUNT  GLORY'S  MARRIAGE  CERTIFICATE 

an'  tuk  herse'f  off  wid  dat  yaller  Jim  Jackson,  who  'clar' 
she  kin  leab  when  she  got  er  mind  ter. 

"  'Mah  ole  Miss/  I  says  ter  him,  'ain'  neber  had  one  o' 
dem  monimints  to  her  mis'ry  a-hangin'  on  de  wall,  an' 
she  an*  ole  Marse  lib  down  heah  on  de  plantation  ter- 
gedder  fer  mo*  'an  forty  yeah;  an*  what  's  good  'nough 
fer  mah  ole  Miss  am  jes  good  'nough  fer  me/  An'  I 
tole  dat  man  she  done  tell  us  many  times  dat  it  warn't  no 
way  fer  a  Christium  ter  do — a-partin'  deyselves.  But, 
you  sees,  Miss  Sally,  Sis  Lucindy  warn't  ter  blame  fer 
dat  dividing  caze  hit  were  all  de  fault  ob — de — c'tificum. 

"Eb'ybody  know  dat  ef  you  passes  by  de  brackberry 
patch  you  ain'  none  de  wus  fer  it;  but  ef  you  p'intedly 
jumps  into  de  bresh — well,  hit  do  mek  er  lot  o'  trouble. 
An'  so  hit  is  wid  de  niggahs;  let  'em  erlone,  an'  dey  's 
all  right,  but  when  you  tries  to  mek  er  white  sheep  outen 
er  ole  black  ram — Lawd !  chile — dar  's  gwine  'o  be  buttin' 
ebry  time,  I  kin  tell  you. 

"Well,  honey,  I  skeer  dat  long-legged  razor-back  so, 
he  ain'  gib  me  no  mo'  direction!  how  to  lib  wid  Mose, 
but  he  moobe  right  erlong,  an'  say  he  gwine  'o  see  Mistah 
Turnah  'bouten  hit,  an'  dat  's  what  's  a-pesterin'  me — 
caze  hit  'ould  be  rale  onconvenient  fer  me  to  light  out 
jes  now. 

"You  axes  what  in  de  name  oj  common  sense  I  gwine 
do  wid  de  chillun,  ef  I  does  go? — an'  how  many  ob  'em 
is  dey  ob  us? 

"Now,  Miss  Sally,  you  knows  dey  is  sech  er  pizen  lot 
o'  dese  heah  little  niggahs,  dat — 'fo'  de  Lawd ! — I  is  done 
loss  de  track  ob  'em  long  ago. 

"De  Great  King  only  know — an'  He  won'  tell — what 


DE  NAMIN'   OB  DE   TWINS 

is  gwine  er  come  ob  'em,  no  mo'  does  I  know  mahse'f. 
Mose — sho — has — kep' — me — 'dustrous,"  she  added  in 
reflective  tone,  puffing  at  her  corncob  pipe,  "a-habin'  all 
dese  heah  forty-leben  chillun;  an'  er  fine  lot  o'  rapscal- 
lioms  dey  is — dat  's  what  I  calls  'em — rapscallioms — caze 
you  knows,  Miss  Sally,  er  rapscalliom  am  er  chile  what 
tek  arter  its  daddy,  an'  sho  all  o'  dese  heah  chillun  is  jes 
de  ve'y  spit  o'  Mose  Turnah. 

"You  ax  how  many  ob  'em  is  dey  ?  Well — lemme  see. 
Hit  wah  nine — dat — time — when — dey— hab — de — ober- 
flow,  an'  fibe  o'  dem  got  drownded.  An'  sence  den — heah 
come  Sapolio,  Tooty-Frooty,  little  spinlin'  Job  (Mose 
name  him  dat,  caze  he  'low  he  sholy  am  'flicted  lak  de 
Profik,  wid  wuss  'an  biles),  San'iago  de  Cuby,*  an'  Hob- 
son  Merrimac  (dem  is  name  fer  de  Spaniel  Wah),  an' 
den  Lastes'  an'  Leab'er  come,  an'  dey  done  wind  up  dis 
fambly  tree. 

"You  ax  what  I  name  'em  Lastes'  an  Leab'er  fer,  Miss 
Sally?  You  says  you  ain'  neber  heerd  no  names  lak  dat 
afo'? 

"No,  'm,  I  'spec'  not ;  caze  dem  names  was  med  up  fer 
to  suit  de  'casiom.  Mose,  he  call  dat  gal  'Lastes','  caze 
he  'low  she  be  de  lastes'  one  ob  de  bunch — an'  den  when 
de  udder  gal  come,  I  calls  her  'Leab'er,'  caze  Mose  'low 
it  a-gittin'  too  hot  roun'  heah,  an'  he  done  leab  me  den — 
'ter  git  he  bref,'  he  say" — and  the  old  negro  gave  a 
chuckle. 

"But  he  done  come  back  ergin — lak  I  knowed  he  'ould 
— an'  seem  ter  be  a-'havin'  hisse'f  all  right  till  dat  dar 

*These  last  four  names  are  borne  by  little  darkies  in  Albemarle 
County,  Virginia. 

42 


AUNT  GLORY'S  MARRIAGE  CERTIFICATE 

Conneticul  man  come  aroun'  an*  stir  him  all  up  'bouten 
dis  heah  c'tificum  business,  which  /  is  p'intedly — gwine — 
ter — spile.  Yaas,  heah  me,  Lawd!  jes — ez — sho — ez — 
mah — name — is — Gloriana. 

"Dere  's  mo*  dan  one  way  ter  'kill  er  cat';  an'  jes  so, 
ef  er  pusson  cyarn'  rule  de  roos'  wid  dey  mouf,  dey 
mought  do  it  wid  dey  foot.  An'  when  hit  come  ter  de 
las'  pinch,  Miss  Sally,  I  is  allus  moobed  by  de  Sperrit; 
an'  so  I  go  to  de  meetin'  las'  night,  an'  ax  de  Lawd  ter 
guide  dese  willin'  feet,  an'  show  me  what  ter  do.  Well, 
honey,  I  no  mo'  'an  gib  two  or  three  big  groans,  an'  rock 
mahse'f  back  an'  fof — 'mos'  a-tumblin'  ober  Bruddah 
'Lige  Willums — when  I  heerd  de  Voice  f 'om  on  high.  An' 
hit  say :  'Glory,  don'  you  stan'  no  mo'  imperence  f 'om  no 
man,  an'  don'  you  gib  in  to  de  mashinations  ob  de  Debil.' 

"So,  Miss  Sally,  ef  de  ch'ice  lays  'tween  me  an'  dat 
c'tificum,  /  is  boun'  ter  be  dat  ch'ice;  caze,  ef  not,  Ole 
Glory  gwine  'bey  de  Wud  what  come  to  her,  an' — git  out. 
An',  ef  she  go,  she  don'  tek  no  baggage,  nudder — heah 
me,  Lawd ! — fer  she  come  to  Mistah  Moses  Deuteronomy 
Turnah  out  en  dese  heah  leben  chillun,  an' — 'fo'  Gawd ! — 
she — gwine — ter — leab — widout — 'em — too!' 


43 


MAH   HONEY 


45 


MAH   HONEY 

DE  bee  's  a-wukkin'  all  de  day, 

A-stealin'  from  de  vine 
Dat  's  hanging  kine  o'  lazy,  roun' 

Dis  cabin-do'  o'  mine. 

He  done  got  all  de  sweet 'nin'  in 

Dat  little  bag  o'  his'n, 
An*  now,  afroo  de  summah  air, 

I  sees  'im  jes  a-whizzin'. 

Is  he  gwine  tek  it  to  de  hibe, 

An'  fill  er  little  cell? 
Lawd !  no,  he  ain'  got  no  sech  mind. 

I  knows  his  track  too  well. 

He  gwine  right  to  dat  Mandy  dar, 

A-sleepin'  'neaf  de  tree, 
An'  stick  dat  sweet'nin' — umph!  7  knows — 

A-layin'  sto'  fer  me. 

An'  when  ahin'  er  cloud  ter-night 

De  moon  's  about  to  dip, 
I  's  gwine  er  do  some  thievin',  too — 

An'  steal  it  off  her  lip. 


47 


DE  OLE  BANJO 

A  CHRISTMAS  MEMORY 


49 


There  is  something  very  pathetic  in  old  Uncle  Rube 
trying  to  tune  up  his  banjo,  "ter  mek  beliebe"  Christmas 
is  come. 

Christmas  is  at  once  both  the  gladdest  and  saddest 
time  of  the  year;  gladdest  to  those  who,  in  the  sunny 
present,  look  only  to  a  rosy  future — saddest  to  those  who, 
in  a  dreary  present,  look  back  upon  a  rosy  past. 


DE  OLE  BANJO 

A  CHRISTMAS  MEMORY 

"WAH,  dis  heah  am'  no  Chris'mus,  chile, 
Ef  de  time  is  come  aroun',  ; 

An'  snowflakes,  lak  de  cotton-bolls, 
Is  whitenin'  all  de  groun' ; 
I 's  done  tuk  up  mah  ole  banjo, 
Ter  mek  beliebe  hit  's  come, 

But  when  de  heart  cyarn'  sing  de  song, 
De  banjo,  too,  is  dum'. 

"I  's  done  mah  bes'  ter  chune  her  up, 
But  de  pegs  keeps  slippin'  back, 

Ontil  hit  'pears  dat  her  an'  me 
Is  bof  done  lost  de  track; 
But  den  de  banjo — Lawd ! — she  know 
Dat  she  cyarn'  do  her  part 

When  she  feel  ole  Rube  is  ailin' 
Wid  dis  miz'ry  roun'  de  heart. 

"Mah  fingahs,  nudder,  ain'  so  slick 
Ez  what  dey  use  ter  be ; 

'Pears  lak  dey  onct  could  play  deyselves, 
Widout  no  he'p  from  me ; 
51 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

An'  now — you  tek  dis  notice,  child — 
To  mek  a  banjo  sing, 

De  sperit  ob  de  music  got 
Ter  be  in  eb'ryt'ing. 

"I  's  seen  de  time  de  Pahson,  when 
He  heah  dis  ole  banjo, 

'Ould  tek  ole  Missus  by  de  han , 
An'  step  out  in  de  flo' ; 
But  a  banjo  cyarnt  stan'  'spons'bul 
Fur  de  debilmtnf  hit  brings, 

When  a  niggah  wid  a  happy  heart   . 
Is  settin'  'hind  de  strings. 

"De  cabins  all  is  empty  now, 
Dat  onct  was  gay  an'  bright, 

An'  bats  an'  squinch-owls  meks  dey  ha'ntt 
Dere  f roo  de  lonesome  night ; 
I  sees  'em  in  de  ebenin's,  chile, 
A-flyin'  froo  an'  froo, 

Jes  lak  dey  'd  bought  'em  from  ole  Marse, 
An'  paid  de  money,  too. 

"De  gre't  house,  lak  a  big  tombstone, 
Stan's  yondah,  white  an'  sad, 

A-mo'nin'  like  fur  we-all  folks 
Dat  use  ter  mek  it  glad. 
No  logs  is  blazin'  on  de  harf, 
No  lights  nor  music  dar, 

An'  't  'pears  ter  me  dat  ghoses,  chile, 
Is  movin'  eb'rywhar. 

52 


DE    OLE    BANJO 

"Me  tell  you  what  is  Chris'mus,  den  ? — 
Lawd !  boy,  you  'd  t'ink  dat  I 

Hed  sho  furgot  de  Bressed  Book, 
An'  's  mekin*  up  er  lie; 
You  neber  seed  sech  times  we  hed, 
An'  neber  will,  fur  sho, 

Caze  Freedom  cum,  jes  'fo'  yo'  day, 
An'  shet  de  Mastah's  do'. 

"Ter  mek  a  Chris'mus,  you  mus'  hab 
Yo'  possum  an'  corn-pones, 

Wid  some  o'  Mastah's  whiskey,  fur 
To  limbah  up  yo'  bones ; 
You  's  boun'  ter  hab  yo'  'bacco, 
Yo'  buttah-milk,  an'  ham, 

Wid  jole  an'  cabbage,  Elim, 
An'  a  honey-drappin'  yam. 

"An'  den  you  's  boun'  ter  hab  ole  Miss 
A-sendin'  down  fur  you, 

An'  de  chillun  callin'  'Chris'mus  gif'/ 
Jes  lak  dey  use  ter  do. 
Lawd !  no,  dey  ain'  no  Chris'mus  now, 
Hit  been  gone  sence  de  war, 

De  bomb-shells  carried  it  away 
When  dey  whuz  froo  de  a'r. 

"Dis  ole  banjo — she  know  it  gone, 
Caze  I  cyarn'  mek  her  play, 

Dough  I  's  been  tryin'  tight  dese  strings, 
Bes'  part  ob  dis  whole  day. 
53 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

She  knows  dere  ain'  no  dancahs  heah, 
Lak  in  de  days  gone  by, 

An'  so  she  jes  de  same  as  'cl'ars 
She  ain'  a-gwine  'o  try. 

'So,  granny,  fix  up  Elim's  bed; 
He  done  gone  fas'  asleep, 

A-huggin'  up  dat  broom-stick  gun 
He  foun'  dar  in  de  heap. 
I  'd  gib  de  worl'  ef  dis  chile  could 
Lib  long  enough  ter  see 

One  Chris'mus  lak  we  use  ter  hab— 
Dis  ole  banjo  an'  me." 


54 


DE  BARN  DANCE 


55 


DE  BARN   DANCE 

BY  MARY  FAIRFAX  CHILDS 

"HiT  is  Chris'mus  in  de  quartahs — 

Git  de  banjo  f'om  de  wall, 
An'  gib  de  darkies,  eb'ry  one, 

De  ole-time  Chris'mus  call; 
Heah  's  Sally  Ann,  an'  Marfy  Jane, 

Ole  Zeke,  an'  Possum  Joe, 
Aunt  Sukey,  an'  dat  gode-haid  Bob, 

Jes  eechin'  fur  de  flo'. 

"Big  Fiddlin'  Jim  's  done  whoop  us  up 

Wid  dat  dar  t'rum  o'  his'n, 
An'  now  de  banjo — yes,  my  Lawd ! — 

Jes  sees  us  all  a-whizzin'; 
Ole  Pompey  's  flingin'  Mammy  dar, 

An'  little  spinlin'  Brown 
Done  grab  Aunt  Polly  by  de  wais', 

To  swing — free  hund'ed  poun'. 

"Dese  yaller  gals  wid  pompydohs, 
Dey  swish  dey  skuts  up  high, 
An'  grins  lak  chess-cats — sassy  jades — 
Ez  dey  goes  skittin'  by ; 
57 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

An'  sho  we  '11  dance  to  ' Money  Musk' 

Ez  long  ez  Jim  Jll  play — 
An'  dat  '11  be  till  roostah  Pete 

Crow  up  de  dawn  o'  day. 

"We  'chassez  right,'  an'  'chassez  lef V 

'Swing  cornahs' — 'balance  all,' 
An'  'tu'n  yo'  pardnahs' — 'promenade/ 

Ez  fas'  ez  he  kin  call; 
We  kicks  each  uddah  on  de  shins — 

But  what  we  keer  fer  dat? — 
Ole  Deacom  Bob  done  kotch  de  fire, 

An'  he  's  begun  to  pat. 

"An'  now  chu'ch-membahs  settin'  roun', 

Who  wouldn'  shek  a  toe, 
Jes  feels  de  sperit  wukkin'  'em, 

An'  dey  's  up  on  de  flo'; 
Kaze  one  pat  ob  de  Deacom's  foot 

Declar's — hit  ain'  no  crime 
To  hab  yo'  fling  up  in  de  barn 

On  dis  heah  Chris'mus  time." 


THE  "OLD  MASTERS" 


59 


There  is  nothing  so  appealing  to  the  lover  of  the  old- 
time  negro  as  his  utter  simplicity. 

Many  years  after  the  war  an  Exposition  Hall  was 
erected  in  one  of  our  large  Northern  cities  for  the  pur 
pose  of  exhibiting  choice  pictures  and  works  of  art. 

An  old  Southern  negro— who  with  his  wife  had  long 
ago  drifted  to  the  great  metropolis — in  passing  this  build 
ing  overheard  the  remark,  "the  old  masters  will  be  in  in 
the  morning." 

This  was,  of  course,  in  allusion  to  the  rare  and  valued 
paintings  which  have  fallen  as  a  legacy  to  mankind. 

But  to  his  simple  intelligence  it  represented  but  one 
idea — the  coming  of  the  old  masters  from  the  South  "to 
see  de  sights,"  which  gladsome  news  he  gives  to  his  wife 
Dinah  in  the  following  words : 


60 


Oh,  sah,  I 's  jes  drapt  in  ter  see  ef  my  £>\e  mastah  's  heah  " 


THE  "OLD   MASTERS" 

"LAWD  !  Dinah  chile,  git  up  an*  shout,  an*  bress  de  Lawd 

dis  day! 
Caze,  ez  I  's  gwine  erlong  de  street,  I  heerd  de  white 

fo'ks  say — 
Dese  ole  yeahs  heerd  it,  mammy,  jes  ez  sho  ez  I  is 

bawn — 
Dey  said  dat  de  ole  Marstahs  wuz  a-comin'  in  de  mawn. 

"I  'uz  gwine  long  by  dat  buildin'  dey  's  been  wukkin'  on, 

you  know, 
An*  whar  dey  said  dey  'low'd  ter  hab  dat  great  big  pic- 

tur'  show; 
An'  I  'spec'  hit  all  is  ready,  wid  dem  gran'  'lectricium 

lights; 
An'  dey  's  'vited  de  ole  Marstahs  fur  ter  come  an'  see 

de  sights. 

"I  's  sorry  you  's  so  po'ly  dat  you  cyarn'  git  out  at  all, 
Caze  I  gwine  in  de  mawnin',  sho,  I  gwine  right  to  dat 

hall, 
An'  see  ef  my  ole  Marstah  's  dar,  who  wuz  so  good  to 

me 

Afo'  Marse  Linkura  writ  de  wo'ds  'at  set  de  darkies 
free. 

61 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

"I  '11  tell  him  all  about  de  onconven'ences  we  's  had, 
De  colj  an*  hungah  we  's  gone  froo,  wid  rheumatiz  so 

bad; 
An'  his  hyart  '11  come  nigh  bustin*  when  he  knows  you 

's  laid  in  bed, 
A-wantin'  fur  a  cup  o'  tea,  an*  fur  a  bite  o'  bread. 

"I  '11  tell  him  dat  de  wuk  wuz  skeerce,  an'  mighty  hard 

to  fine, 
Caze  dey  gibs  it  to  de  niggahs  'at  's  got  youngah  han's 

dan  mine. 
Dere  's  no  mo'  room  fur  ole  fo'ks — dey  's  all  done  had 

deir  day — 
An'  now  dey  's  stumblin*  'long  de  road,  jes  takin'  up 

de  way! 

"But  I  couldn'  hab  lef  you  nohow — I  's  boun'  ter  put  you, 

fus'— 

Bekaze  I  tuk  you,  Dinah,  'fur  bettah  or  fur  wus' ; 
Dem  's  jes  de  wo'ds  de  Pahson  read  when  we  stood  on 

de  flo', 
In  our  ole  Missus'  parlor  mo'  'an  fifty  yeahs  ago. 

"I  '11  ax  him  'bout  de  good  ole  home  an'  han'some  Massa 

Jack, 
Who  went  a-marchin'  to  de  war  an'  neber  had  come 

back; 

I  '11  ax  him  'bout  de  cabin  whar  de  chillun  used  to  play, 
Ez  happy  ez  de  guinea-pigs  froo  all  de  lib-long  day ; 

62 


THE   "OLD  MASTERS" 

"An',  Dinah  chile,  what  does  you  frink  I  gwine  'o  ax  him, 

too? 
I  '11  beg,  when  he  goes  back  down  Souf,  he  '11  tek  bof 

me  an'  you ; 
I  '11  tell  him  't  won'  be  long  afo'  de  good  Lawd  calls  us 

'come,' 
An*  we  wants  Him  beckon  to  us  from  de  little  cabin 

home." 
******* 

The  next  day  in  the  Artists'  Hall,  where    Fashion's 

throng  did  meet, 
An  aged  negro,  hat  in  hand,  approached  with  trembling 

feet. 

"What  '11  you  have,  Old  Fo-de-war?"  asks  one,  advanc 
ing  near. 

"Oh,  sah,  I  's  jes  drapt  in  ter  see  ef  my  ole  Marstah  's 
heah. 

"I  heerd  he  would  be  heah  to-day" — and  modestly  he 

stood, 
And  gazed  with  frightened  look  upon  the  faces  strange 

and  rude. 
"But  I  don'  see  him" — 'and  a  tear  begrimed  his  dusky 

cheek, 

Though  mute,  more  eloquent  than  words  his  falt'ring 
lips  could  speak. 

He  turned  and,  with  a  tott'ring  step,  passed  out  the  mas 
sive  door, 

And  left  the  gay  and  glitt'ring  crowd,  as  careless  as 
before — 

63 


DB  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

Unconscious  that  a  Christian  heart,  so  simple,  fond  and 

true, 
Was  breaking  'neath  that  tattered  coat  of  thin  and  faded 

blue. 

With  weary  step  he  shuffled  on,  back  to  his  humble 

room, 
And  cried:    "Oh,  Dinah!  he  warn't  dar — ole  Marstah 

didn't  come ! 
I  went  right  up  de  big  stone  steps,  an*  stood  widin  de 

do', 
But  dere  warn't  a  single  pusson  dar  I  eber  seed  afo'. 

"De  Lawd,  He  '11  have  to  he'p  us  b'ar  dis  burden  ob  de 

day, 
An'  gib  His  sarvents  patience  fur  to  trus'  an'  watch  an' 

pray. 
Ole  Marstah,  he  won'  come  to  us" — great  tears  his  eyes 

bedim — 

"An'  we  mus'  wait,  ole  woman,  'til  we  can  go  to  Him." 
******* 

One  grave,  long  since  in  Southern  land,  had  lain  'neath 

orange-bloom ; 

And  in  the  city's  pauper-lot  two  exiles  found  a  tomb ; 
All  's  over  now — the  three  sleep  low,  beneath  the  quiet 

sod — 
But  they  have  found  "ole  Marstah"  in  the  Paradise  of 

God. 


64 


LITTLE  ABE'S   SOLILOQUY 


LITTLE  ABE'S   SOLILOQUY 

"I  's  TIRED  ob  edicatiom — 

'T  am'  got  no  sence  no  way, 
Kaze  I  kyarn'  see  why  'two — slant — lines, 
Wid — one — across,  meks  A! 

"An'  den  de  teachah  say — *er — line 

Wid— two— half  Os  is  £/ 
But  what 's  de  good  o'  knowin'  dat 
Is  mo'  dan  I  kin  see. 

"I  'd  ruddah  play  de  juce-harp,  on 

De  bench  by  Mammy's  do'; 
I  'd  ruddah  hunt  de  possum,  when 
De  moon  's  a-dippin'  low; 

"I  'd  ruddah  pick  de  cotton,  when 

De  sun  's  a-shinin'  hot, 
Or  hold  de  calf,  when  Sally  Ann  's 
A-milkin'  in  de  lot. 

"  'Some  day  you  may  be  Presidint,' 

De  teachah  say  to  me, 
'Ef  you  '11  do  sums  an'  writin'  good, 
An'  1'arn  yo'  A  B  C.' 
67 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

"But  Pap  say,  'Readin'  ain'  no  'count 

To  he'p  a  boy  to  hoe' 
An'  dat  's  what  he  gwine  feed  me  fer— 
So  books  '11  hev  to  go. 

"Yaas — 1'arnin's  mighty  pesterin'; 

So  I  'lows — no  indeed, 
I — ain' — gwine — be — no — Presiding 
Ef  I  is  got  to — read." 


68 


PARSON   PETE'S  SERMON 


PARSON  PETE'S   SERMON 
"Berhol',  I  shows  you  a  myst'ry." 

"HiT  do  mos'  gin'lly  fall  on  de  preachah,  mah  belubbed 
bredren,  to  'splain  de  wuds  ob  de  tex',  but  in  dis  heah  in- 
stunce  Ole  Pete  ain'  a-gwine  'o  try;  kaze  de  'postle  an* 
de  'pistle  hisse'f  dey  bof  says  p'intedly — dey  is  a  myst'ry, 
an'  dat  settles  it. 

"What  is  a  myst'ry  ?  Well,  dat  is  de  questiom.  Wah, 
a  myst'ry  is,  o'  co'se,  sumpin  de  Lawd  don'  wan'  you 
know  nuttin'  't  all  'bouten,  or  He  'd  a-tol'  you;  kaze  ef 
you  knows  hit,  an'  kin  'splain  hit,  den  er  bline  mule  could 
see  hit  ain'  no  myst'ry. 

"Dere  's  entirely  too  much  'splainin'  ob  de  Scripters 
now,  mah  bredren ;  fo'kses  don'  swaller  hit  down,  lak  de 
Lawd  attended  dey  should ;  no,  sah,  dey  jus'  fixes  hit  up 
wid  some  kine  o'  sweet'nin',  fer  to  kill  de  tase  ob  hit — 
lak  hit  wah  a  dose  o'  ile.  But  heah  me,  chillun !  ef  you — 
spec — hit — to— do — de — wuk,  you — is — got — to — swaller 
— hit — in — de — natchel — state. 

"Some  o'  de  white  fo'ks  nowadays — so  I  heern  a 
preachah-man  say — dey  'clars  dey  's  a-gwine  git  to  de 
'bottom-rock'  ob  eb'ryt'ing;  but,  mah  bredren,  how — is 
— dey — gwine — git — dar  ? 

"Dis  'gittin'  dar'  am  a  mighty  treach'rous  groun',  chil- 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

lun;  heap  wusser  dan  de  ole  marsh  down  dere  in  de 
grabe-yard,  an'  I  mahse'f — who  been  de  cap'n  o'  dis  ole 
Chu'ch  o'  Zion,  lo!  dese  forty  yeah — I  'clars  eben  /  is 
afear'd  to  set  mah  foot  on  de  road  o'  Reason. 

"Kaze,  jes  as  soon  as  de  Debil  see  you  tek  dat  er  way 
— an'  he  allus  a-lookin'  out  fer  you  lak  a  rampin'  an' 
'a  roarin'  lion' — so  de  Bibul  say — he  gwine  come  erlongr 
wid  dat  dar  clove-hoof  o'  his'n,  an'  dem  slick,  butt'ry 
wo'ds,  an'  tu'n  you  offen  de  track  o*  Faif,  a-bringin' 
trouble — jes  lak  he  done  bring  it  afo',  when  he  swade 
Miss  Ebe  fer  to  eat  dat  apple  one  time. 

"An',  mah  sistern,  an'  mah  bredren,  berlieb  me  when 
I  says  dat  de  human  minds  o'  we  po'  sinnahs  kyarn'  be 
gin  to  tek  in  de  wonderful  wo'ks  ob  de  Lawd,  no  mo* 
dan  kin  de  gruntin'  ole  sow  in  de  pig-sty  onderstan'  what 
ole  Marstah  is  done  in  de  past,  an'  what  he  gwine  'o  do 
in  de  mawnin'. 

"  'Berhol',  I  shows  you  a  myst'ry !'  Yaas,  lambs  o'  de 
flock,  an'  sheeps  o'  de  for,  de  Great  Mastah  don'  show 
us  nuffin'  else,  fer  eb'ry  t'ing  He  done  made  am  a  mys 
t'ry,  an'  whar,  in  de  name  o'  Gawd !  is  de  man  what  kin 
onderstan'  it  hisse'f — much  less  'splain  it  ? 

"Now,  tek  fer  de  fus'  mattah  our  eb'ry-day  'speunce 
wid  de  chicken  an'  de  aig.  We  don'  know  nuttin'  't  all 
'bout  de  fus'  principums  ob  dat  aig,  dough — he !  he !  he ! 
— eb'ry  niggah  know  'bout  de  chicken — some  ob  you  mos' 
in  pertickler ;  but  de  wises*  man  in  all  de  worl',  from  de 
Jedges  cl'ar  plum  down  to  Marse  Noah — who  done  tote 
dat  chicken  in  de  Ark  wid  'im — he  kyarn'  'form  you 
which  was  med  de  fus\  De  chicken  mek  de  aig — ef  you 
let  'im  erlone,  an'  de  aig  '11  mek  de  chicken,  if  you  jes 

72 


PARSON   PETE'S  SERMON 

gib  'im  time;  but  de  on'splainable  myst'ry  am:  Which — 
come — de — f  us'  ? 

"Now,  de  preachah,  or  de  profik,  what  kin  'lighten  me 
on  dat  p'int,  let  him  come  wid  his  1'arnin'  an'  do  so; 
but,  mah  dearly  belubbed  bredren,  dey  don'  know  no  mo* 
'bouten  hit  dan  do  ole  Aunt  Ailsie's  baby  a-sleepin'  dar 
on  its  muddah's  bre's',  kaze  de  Great  King  who  writ  de 
Book,  He  say  it  am  a  myst'ry.  An'  so  is  de  fillin'  ob  de 
Ark,  de  'vidin'  ob  de  Jordan,  de  feedin'  wid  de  manna, 
de  speakin'  ob  de  ass  (dough  I  don'  persidder  dat  in  no 
ways  'markabul,  kaze  we  's  all  heern  mo'  asses  speak — 
yaas,  my  Lawd! — dan  we  's  eber  heern  bray).  An'  now 
'bout  dat  brayin'.  I  feels  hit  mah  bounden  juty  to  warn 
you,  chillun  of  grace,  dat  dere  's  a  ass  right  on  dis  fiel' — 
jes  heah,  close  to  de  pulpit,  an'  ready  to  'dress  de  meetin' 
when  I  sets  down. 

"You  all  sees  'im,  an'  know'd  'im  on  de  plantation!  as 
'Slipp'ry  Sam,'  but  heah  he  come  back,  wid  his  new 
fangled  bombacious  talk,  a-callin'  hisse'f  de  Rev.  Samuel 
Allison  Callaway — a-struttin'  long  heah  'mong  Marstah's 
ole  people,  a-airin'  his  sto'-clo'es  an'  his  onbelief. 

"You  all  'membahs  his  Pap  an'  Mammy,  born  down 
heah  on  de  ole  Summerville  plantation — reg'lar  good  ole 
dippin'  Baptists — a-weepin'  at  de  monah's  bench  while  de 
meetin'  wah  in  sessiom,  an'  on  de  way  back  to  de  cabin, 
sometimes  a-bre'kin'  up  de  sessiom  dat  de  Cochin  Chinys 
an'  de  Plymuf  Rockahs  was  a-holdin'  on  dey  roos'.  (Yaas, 
my  Lawd !  ef  de  ghos'es  ob  chickens  could  jes  come  back 
an'  talk!)  Howsomeber,  de  chariot  done  swung  low  fer 
dem  long  ago,  an'  dey  now  is  a-wearin'  ob  de  'golden 
slippahs,'  an'  'a-swingin'  on  de  golden  gate,'  plum  igno- 

73 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

ran'  ob  de  fac'  dat  dere  'Slipp'ry  Sam*  am  a-deavorin'  to 
slip  up  de  ole  bed-rock  Christioms  ob  de  Chu'ch  o'  Zion. 

"But  we  kyarn'  be  too  hard  on  dem,  kaze  dey  was  pus- 
swaded  to  de  eddicatiom  by  date  po'-trash  furriner  who 
come  down  heah,  a-onsettlin'  all  our  peoples  wid  his 
white-fo'ks  notions.  He  didn't  hab  no  idee  what  a  woolly 
haid  is  lak;  but  you-all  knows  f'om  speunce  dat  it  am' 
no  mo'  lak  a  white- fo'k's  haid  inside  dan  it  is  outside.  No, 
sar,  dere  's  a  pow'rful  lot  o'  diff'unce  atween  'em.  A 
white  haid  am  got  all  de  diff'ent  'parfrmnto  inside  ob  it, 
fer  to  hoi'  de  halgebrys,  de  gometrys,  de  physmatics,  de 
spellin',  an'  all  de  res'  ob  dem  sciences ;  but  a  woolly  haid 
is  jes  got  one  'partmint  in  hit,  an'  dat  am  fer  to  hoi*  de 
knowledge  ob  de  banjo,  de  cotton-fiel',  de  'tater-patch,  an' 
de — chick'n  roos'l  Now,  when  all  dem  'strep'rous  idees 
git  jumbled  up  in  de  niggah's  haid,  dat  one  little  hole 
dar  git  so  full  it  jes  busses — an'  den  de  niggah  ain'  got 
no  place  to  hoi'  nuffin' — he  ain'  got  no  sense  at  all.  Den, 
you  see,  de  kintry  hit  done  los'  a  jedge,  or  a  Presiding  or 
som'n,  an'  ole  Marstah  he  done  los'  a  fiel'  han'. 

"Now,  dat  jes  de  way  wid  dis  heah  boy  ob  Zeke  an' 
Liny.  Fus',  de  fool  idee  git  inter  Zeke  an'  Liny's  haids 
dat  dey  mus'  hab  'im  lak  young  Marse  Aleck  an'  Marse 
George,  an'  dat  idee,  chillun,  putty  nigh  busses  dey  ole 
skulls  wide  open ;  so  dey  sen's  him  off  en  to  dat  eddicatiom 
school  whar  dey  gits  de  1'arnin',  an'  de  1'arnin'  got  inter 
his  haid — an'  plum  busses  hit ;  de  quinsequonces  ob  which 
you  all  done  seed  fer  yo'se'f. 

"Caze  ain'  he  come  back  down  heah — de  ongodly  pus- 
secutor  an'  back-slider — an'  preach  dat  he  ain'  gwine  ber- 
lieb  nuffin  't  all,  whar  he  kyarn'  un'erstan'?  Ez  if  de 

74 


PARSON   PETE'S  SERMON 

Lawd  was  gwine  'o  mek  t'ings  so  easy  lak,  dat  eben  a 
fool  niggah  could  tek  'em  all  in.  No,  bress  Gawd!  dey 
is  myst'ries !  an'  we  kyarn'  none  ob  us  on'erstan'  'em  on- 
til  we  sees  Him  face  to  face — lak  He  tell  us. 

"But  de  Debil,  you  know — mah  belubbecf  bredren — kin 
tek  de  form  o'  man ;  so  I  is  mons'ously  skeered  less'n  dis 
citified  niggah  heah  gwine  onsettle  de  faif  ob  some  o'  ole 
Marstah's  baid-rock  beliebers,  who  I  's  done  been  'zortin' 
wid  fer  de  las'  forty  yeah! 

"Dere  ain'  no  use  a-talkin'  'bout  it,  mah  chillun,  but  it 
sometimes  do  'pear  to  me  lak  de  Lawd  He  jes  a-tryin' 
fer  to  mixen  us  up  on  a  puppose,  fer  to  tes'  our  Faif. 
Kaze  de  Bibul  He  done  gib  us  am  a  cur'us  Book,  fer  de 
reason  kaze  de  lessen  you  knows  ob  hit,  de  wisah  you 
railly  is.  Fer  don'  de  Gospel  p'intedly  say,  dat  onless 
you  's  'simpul  ez  a  little  chile'  you  kyan'  see  de  Kingdom  ? 

"Now,  mah  chillun,  you  sho  kin  draw  de  mos'  comfut 
f'om  de  wuds — you  dat  ain'  eddicated  in  de  semitaries, 
nor  ham'  got  de  hifalutin'  1'arnin'  ob  de  white  fo'ks — 
kaze  hit  don'  say  nuthin'  't  all  'bouten  de  algebry,  nor 
dem  gometry  books,  whar  I  heahs  Marse  George  a-wras- 
tlin'  wid;  hit  don'  say  eben  'bout  knowin'  ez  much  ez 
Bruddah  Tomkins  heah,  who  done  'vince  us  all,  dat  he 
been  edified  by  de  Sperit.  Hit  don'  say  nuffin'  't  all  'bout 
knowin'  when  de  rain  is  gwine  'o  rain,  an'  de  snow  's 
a-gwine  'o  snow  lak  ole  'ram-butt'  Bill — what  kin  talk 
to — yaas,  Lawd ! — an'  on'erstan'  de  possums  an'  de  coons 
what  tells  'im  all  de  weddah-signs. 

"No — hit  don'  say  nuffm'  on  all  dem  p'ints,  but  one 
t'ing  hit  do  say,  an'  dat  dey  ain'  no  'sputin'  'bout ;  hit  do 
say :  'Berhol',  I  shows  you  a  MYST'RY.'  Yaas,  chillun,  an' 

75 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

stacks  an'  stacks  on  'em,  which  we  's  jes  p'intedly  boun' 
to  belieb;  kaze  de  good  Book  done  say  dat  widout  Faif 
hit  am  'onpossibul  to  please  Gawd.'  An'  dough  hit  ain'  a 
beholdin'  o'  me  fer  to  specerlate  on  de  wharabouts  ob 
any  bruddah — whar  he  is,  or  whar  he  gwine — arter  he 
leab  dis  planetary  system,  I  tells  you,  chillun  ob  de 
Chu'ch  of  Zion,  dis  heah  ole  Pete  who,  lak  mah  Bruddah 
Paul,  am  de  leas'es  ob  de  'postles — he  ain'  afeerd  to  per- 
nounce  it  fer  a  fac'  dat  dat  wild  an'  haid-strong  bruddah 
what  don'  swaller  all  dem  cur'us  myst'rys,  what  de  Lawd 
done  tol'  us,  he  sholy  gwine  wish  some  day  dat  he  kin 
come  back  f'om  dat  place  whar  he  is,  an*  git  jis  one  mo' 
drap  o'  water,  fer  to  cool  his  tongue,  outen  ole  Tadpole 
PonY  " 


MANDY  AND  "OLE  MISS";  OR,  AFTER  MANY 

DAYS 


77 


In  the  vicissitudes  of  war  the  loss  of  family,  fortune 
and  friends  is  not  unusual. 

These  verses  refer  to  a  Southern  woman — a  native  of 
Louisiana — who,  penniless  and  afflicted,  was  placed  by 
relatives  in  a  hospital,  where  she  remained  so  long  as 
to  outlive  those  who  provided  for  her. 

In  the  case  of  a  charity  patient  it  is  but  a  step  from 
the  hospital  to  the  almshouse,  and  the  desolate,  deserted 
woman  soon  found  herself  one  of  its  inmates. 

She  had  been  there  but  four  weeks  when  an  old  negro 
— a  servant  of  bygone  days — heard  of  it  and,  though  liv 
ing  at  some  distance,  came  to  look  after  "Miss  Lucy," 
took  her  from  the  poorhouse  to  her  own  humble  quar 
ters,  and  went  out  washing  to  support  her. 

One  who  understands  the  negro  nature  will  find  this 
poem  true  to  life. 

Mandy's  allusion  to  the  old  lame  deacon's  "mekin'  tawk 
afo'  de  free-bawn  trash"  shows  the  position  of  superiority 
which  upper-class  negroes  of  the  South  felt  toward  those 
"who  neber  had  no  Miss." 

Pride  in  their  Master's  family  was  a  preeminent  fea 
ture — and  the  poorhouse  a  never-dreamed-of  destiny,  too 
fearful  to  consider. 

'    In  her  delicacy,  you  see,  old  Mandy  alludes  to  it  as 
"dis  boa'din'-house." 


In  fond  embrace  two  women,  from  the  almshouse,  walked  away, 
The  one  was  white,  the  one  was  black,  and  both  were  old  and  gray 


MANDY  AND  "OLE  MISS";  OR,  AFTER  MANY 

DAYS 

"GREAT  King  o'  Saints!    Miss  Lucy,  is  dis  you,  honey 

deah? 
De  Lawd  He  knows  I  neber  'spec'  to  see  my  mistis 

heah; 

Ole  Mandy  's  come  to  git  you,  chile,  an'  carry  you  away, 
Whar  she  kin  lub  an'  keer  fur  you — what,  honey?  what 

you  say? 

"Why  ain'  I  come  no  sooner  ?    Lawd  bless  me !  I  declar' 
I  neber  know'd  whar  you  is  been  sence  eenin'  o'  de 

war; 
Las'  night  at  meetin',  Humpin'  Joe,  de  ole  lame  deacon, 

say 
He  know  you  in  dis  County  Home — he  seed  you  cl'ar 

ez  day. 

"I  'd  jes  come  f'om  de  mo'nahs'  bench  when  he  say  dat 

to  me, 
Or  I  'd  a-cussed  him,  den  an*  dar,  fur  sassin'  up  so 

free. 
I  tol*  him  shet  his  punkin-haid — so  mad  I  mos*  was 

cryin' — 
But  den  I  'low'd  I  'd  come  to-day,  an'  see  ef  he  were 

lyin'. 

79 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

"De  idee  o'  dat  blacksome  wretch  a-mekin'  talk  lak  dis 
Afo'   de  free-bawn  niggah  trash  what  neber  hed  no 

'Miss' ! 
But  don'  you  mind  dat  now,  chile — you  come  erlong — 

yaas,  do; 
Kaze  I  is  got  a  leetle  room,  jes  big  enough  fur  two; 

"An'  I  kin  wuk — dese  hard  ole  hands  kin  do  de  washin' 

yit, 

An'  I  '11  gib  you  de  bigges'  ha'f  ob  eb'ryt'ing  I  git; 
Hit  won'  be  no  fine  libin' — but,  honey,  don'  you  keer — 
Be  bettah  dan  dis  boa'din'-house,  wid  all  dis  'po'-trash' 
heah. 

"To  t'ink  wese  fambly  come  to  dis!    Great  Marstah!  I 

declar' 
You  sho  does  press  dis  bustin'  heart  wid  mo'  dan  it  kin 

b'ar; 
But — come  erlong  wid  Mandy,  chile;  t'ings  mought  be 

wuss,  you  see, 
Kaze  now,  ole  Missus,  I  's  got  you,  an'  you  's  got  po' 

ole  me. 

"I  gwine  'o  mek  dat  leetle  room  shine  brightah  dan  a  pin, 
Bekaze  to  hab  you  dar,  ole  Miss,  '11  be  lak  home  agin ; 
An'  till  de  trumpet  soun'  fur  you  to  walk  de  golden 

street, 
You  jes  shall  fol'  dem  little  han's,  an'  res'  dem  little  feet. 

"I 's  got  a  tolabul  ole  baid,  which  I  keeps  clean  an'  white ; 
An'  I  kin  mek  a  pallet  down,  an'  sleep  by  you  at  night; 

80 


MANDY  AND   'OLE  MISS" 

I  's  got  a  good  split-bottom  cheer — dat  cheer  I  '11  allus 

keep — 
Bekaze  I  rock'd  de  babies  dar,  an'  sung  'em  off  to  sleep. 

"You  cryin',  honey?    Does  I  see  de  teahs  roll  down  yo' 

face? 
Well,  now,  Miss  Lucy,  'don'  you  gib  no  sech  commo- 

tioms  place; 

Kaze  we  will  lib  togedder,  chile — jes  lak  it  use  to  be — 
'Cept  I  '11  be  keerin'  now  fer  you,  whar  you  once  keer'd 

fer  me." 

******* 

In  fond  embrace,  two  women  from  the  almshouse  walked 

away; 
The  one  was  white,  the  one  was  black — and  both  were 

old  and  gray; 
But  angels  of  the  sunset  skies  saw  more,  saw  deeper 

yet— 
They  saw  the  true,  the  priceless  heart  in  ebon  casket 

set. 


81 


WHEN  EBENIN'  COMES 


WHEN  EBENIN'  COMES 

DE  sun,  he  'lows  ter  hide  'is  light— 
'An'  I  don'  know  but  what  he  's  right— 
Kaze  hit  won'  do  to  shine  too  bright 

When  ebenin'  comes. 

Dat  summah-gal — de  lady  moon, 
'A-smilin'  from  de  sky  in  June, 
Gibs  jes  de  light  ter  suit  a  "coon" 

When  ebenin'  comes. 

I  lubs  ter  set  aside  de  do', 

An'  t'rum  upon  mah  ole  banjo, 

An'  play  de  sweetes'  chunes  I  know, 

When  ebenin'  comes. 

Or  else  I  walks  wid  Lindy  Jane 
Adown  ole  Marstah's  rail-fence  lane, 
An'  tells  her  what  I  got  ter  'splain, 

When  ebenin'  comes. 

An'  Lindy?  Lawd!  she  heah  me,  too, 
An'  's  mighty  glib  ter  he'p  me  froo, 
Lak  all  dese  gals  is  sho  ter  do, 

When  ebenin'  comes. 


OLE  JOE  AN'  DE  YALLER  MULE;  OR,  "FAITH 
FUL  UNTO  DEATH" 


At  a  late  reunion  of  the  Confederate  veterans  in  Rich 
mond,  Virginia,  it  was  noted  that  the  rear  of  their  pro 
cession  was  composed  entirely  of  old  negro  men. 

These  had  faithfully  followed  and  served  their  masters 
during  the  war,  and  were  entitled  to  a  place  in  those 
ranks,  which  now,  gradually  thinning  out,  can  never  call 
for  reinforcements. 

There  could  be  nothing  more  affecting  in  history  than 
the  sight  of  these  faithful  colored  servants  accompanying 
the  master  to  the  field,  waiting  on  him,  fighting  with  him 
and,  in  many  instances,  bearing  home  his  letters  and  per 
sonal  trinkets  when  dead. 


88 


OLE  JOE  AN'  DE  YALLER  MULE;  OR,  "FAITH 
FUL  UNTO  DEATH" 

"I  TELL  you  how  it  wuz,  ole  Marse,  de  mens  'uz  drappin' 

roun', 
Jes  lak  de  leabes  f'om  off  de  trees  is  kiv'rin'  up  de 

groun' ; 
An*  on  ole  Bob,  Marse  Harry  he  come  chargin'  f'om  de 

rair, 
His  sode  an'  gun  a-glisterin'  lak  sunshine  in  de  air. 

"Ole  Bob  he  snort  an'  toss  his  haid,  a-trimblin'  at  de  fire, 
While  in  de  stirrup,  eager  lak,  Marse  Hal  rise  high  an' 

higher — 

While  I  wuz  clost  ez  I  could  git,  a-prayin'  all  de  time 
Dem  Yankee  balls  'ould  pass  him  by,  an'  spar'  dat  chile 

o'  mine. 

"But,  Lawd!  ole  Marse,  de  pra'r  wuz  yit  a-hangin'  on 

mah  lip 
When,  Great  King!  in  de  gully  dar,  ole  Bob  he  give  a 

slip — 
An'  den  he  an'  Marse  Harry  done  drapted  from  mah 

sight, 

A-fallin'— lak  I  know'd  he  'd  fall— in  fo'mos'  ob  de 
fight! 

89 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

"Fur  dat  bullet  turn'd  no  cornahs — hit  bed  one  t'ing  in 

min', 
Which  wuz  to  pick  de  braves'  mark  dere  wuz  erlong  de 

line— 
An'  so  he  hit  po'  white-foot  Bob  right  squar'  dar  in  de 

haid, 
An'  down  he  come  a-rollin'  'mong  de  dyin'  an'  de  daid. 

"I  'uz  on  ole  Jude,  de  yaller  mule  you  'vised  me  fur  to 

ride, 
Bekase  you  'low'd  dey  warn't  no  ball  gwine  punctuate 

he's  hide, 
Which  wuz,  I  sw'ars!  de  Gospel  trufe;  kaze,  'cep'n  fur 

dat  skin, 
Dis  niggah  'd  been  at  Heben's  gate,  a-pleadin'  to  git  in ; 

"Fur  when  a  ball  come  whizzin'  'long  I  heerd  a  funny 

soun', 

An'  I  'low'd  me  an'  ole  Judas  wuz  dyin'  on  de  groun' — 
But  no,  sah!  he  jes  hump  hisse'f,  kaze  he  didn'  lak  de 

shock. 
An'  me?     Lawd!  I  sot  stiddy  as  'de  house  upon  de 

Rock.' 

"When  Bob  drapt,  co'se  Marse  Harry  drapt,  an'  'fo'  dat 

he  could  rise, 
Dey — chargin'  lak  de  Debil's  men,  wid  cusses  an'  wid 

cries — 
Jes  trode  him  down,  ole  Marstah,  an'  when  I  nex'  seed 

him 

His  wuds  wuz  sof  an'  quav'rin' — his  eyes  wuz  gittin' 
dim.  ^ 

90 


OLE  JOE  AN'   DE   YALLER  MULE 

"We  moved  him  from  de  battle-fiel*  to  underneaf  a  tree, 
Whose  kind  ole  branches  from  de  sun  dey  shaded  him 

an'  me; 
An'  den  I  fotch  him  watah  from  a  spring  right  close  to 

han', 
An'  tu'ns  him  so  dat  he  mought  res'  as  easy  as  he  can. 

"My  Gawd!  it  lak  to  bre'k  mah  heart  to  see  him  lyin' 

dar, 
Dat  white  look  on  his  face,  an'  blood  a-soakin'  in  his 

ha'r; 
So  down  I  sets  an'  lays  his  haid  right  lovin'  on  mah 

knee, 
An'  den  he  raise  his  dimmin'  eyes  an',  lookin'  up  at  me, 

"I  says:  'Marse  Harry,  time  ain'  come  fur  sech  as  you 

to  go; 
Oh,  Lawd!  I  wush  you  'd  change  de  place  wid  dis  ole 

triflin'  Joe, 
Kaze  I  'ould  ruddah  die  right  heah  dan  tek  mahse'f  back 

home, 
An'  tell  ole  Marstah,  waitin*  dar,  you  's  neber  gwine  to 

come/ 

"  'Yes,  Joe,'  he  says,  a-trimblin'  lak,  an'  pressin'  ov  mah 

han', 
'You  '11  hev  to  go  back  home,  ole  boy,  as  soon  now  as 

you  can ; 

Jus'  look  aroun'  de  tent,  take  back  de  little  I 's  got  lef ', 
An'  tell  'em  all,  fur  me,  dat  you  wuz  "faifful  unto  def:" ' 

91 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

"  'Don'  talk  dat  way/  I  sez;  'Marse  Hal,  you  's  been  de 

same  to  me, 

An'  faifful  one  meks  faifful  two,  as  fur  as  I  kin  see/ 
So,  heah  I  is,  ole  Marstah,  dough  I  cyarn'  mek  it  plain ; 
Dese  'screpancies  ob  Providence  is  moughty  hard  to 

'splain. 


"Ole  Joe  cyarn'  tell  why  he  come  back  wid  dis  ole  yaller 

mule, 

Whose  eb'ry  reputatiom  p'ints  to  bein'  jes  a  fool, 
While  our  Marse  Hal,  an'  white-foot  Bob,  heah  in  dey 

manhood  prime, 
Wuz  knockted  off  the  tree  o'  life  afo'  dey  come  to  time. 

"You  ax  who  bury  him  ?    T'ank  Gawd !  ole  Joe  done  dat 

hisse'f. 

I  sot  by  him,  ole  Marse,  ontil  he  brebe  his  las'es*  bref ; 
An'  arter  dat  de  King  o'  Heb'n  done  shet  his  eyes  in 

sleep, 
I  drapted  on  mah  knees  an'  prayed  de  Lawd  his  'soul  to 

keep.' 

"Ob  co'se,  moa'  'lastin'es'  respec's  I  's  boun'  show  Judas 

now 

( I 's  done  tuk  off  mah  cap  to  him,  wid  mah  polites'  bow ) , 
But  sence  his  ole  hide  sheds  de  balls,  Great  King !  I  wush 

dat  he 

Had  rid  Marse  Harry  'long  dat  line,  an'  lef  ole  Bob  to 
me. 

92 


OLE  JOE  AN'   DE   YALLER  MULE 

"So  I  griebs  to  say,  ole  Marstah,  I  's  heah,  wid  Judas, 

too, 

Who,  lak  dat  Balaam's  Bible  ass,  has  sholy  tote  me  f roo ; 
Kaze,  neber  fearin'  shot  nor  shell,  nor  flamin'  ob  de 

s'ord, 
Jes  went  his  way,  a-bearin'  on  dis  sarbent  ob  de  Lawd." 


93 


"NAME  THIS  CHILD" 


95 


It  was  no  unusual  thing  in  the  South  for  negroes  to 
bring  their  children  to  the  church  for  baptism. 

This  was  particularly  true  amongst  the  Episcopal  fami 
lies  of  Virginia  who,  being  widely  scattered,  in  many  in 
stances  erected  and  attended  the  little  church  on  their 
own,  or  a  neighboring,  plantation. 

The  negroes'  love  for  Bible  names  is  a  faithfully  re 
corded  fact;  and  the  giving  of  such  to  their  children,  in 
the  most  ridiculous  manner,  was  one  of  the  interesting 
features  of  plantation  life. 

In  their  choice  they  often  showed  great  originality,  as 
in  the  following  case. 


"NAME  THIS   CHILD" 

—Baptismal  Service 

"SCAPE  o,  Mastah,  is  de  name  I 

Done  pick  out  fer  him," 
Old  Hannah  whispers — standing  in 
The  Chapel,  lighted  dim. 

"Scape  o?"  repeats  the  Rector.    "Why, 
What  kind  of  name  is  this  ?" 

"A  Bibul  name,  Marse  Henry,  dat  's 
P^rzactly  what  it  is, 

"Kaze  in  de  bressed  Scriptur'  Book — 

I  heern  'em  read  it  so — 
Hit  say,  'When  Moses  clum  de  Mount 
He  view  de  lan'scape  o'.'  " 


97 


OLE   'LIJAH'S  WEDDIN' 

A  PLANTATION  EPISODE 


99 


The  fickleness  of  woman  and  the  inconstancy  of  man 
is  not  alone  confined  to  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  song. 

Cupid,  sly  archer,  plays  his  pranks  everywhere — not 
only  amongst  the  grandees  of  higher  life,  but  as  well 
amongst  the  lowly,  'way  down  South,  where  the  banjos 
ring. 

How  one  saucy  maid  served  the  gay  Lothario  of  the 
plantation  will  be  seen  in  the  following. 


100 


"Lawd!  marstah,  I   done  change  mah   mind — I   gwine   tek  fid- 
dlin'Jim" 


OLE   'LIJAH'S   WEDDIN' 

A  PLANTATION  EPISODE 

"HELLO   dar,   Rasmus;   come   right  heah,   an'   try   yo' 

pigeon-wing, 

While  Billy  pat  de  juba,  an'  Torm  chune  up  an'  sing; 
I  's  tooken  down  de  fiddle,  an'  resined  up  de  bow  — 
Hit  'pears  ter  me,  you  lazy-bones  is  movin'  moughty 

slow. 

"Don'  you  know  dat  Bruddah  'Lijah  gwine  'o  ma'y  Sal 

Jones  ter-night? 
(I  neber  b'liebed  dat  ole  black  dog  could  cotch  a  coon  so 


But  he  'tarmined  fur  to  git  her,  an'  he  got  her  —  so  he 

say. 
Yaas,   I  knowed  his   mine  wah   med  up,   from  Aunt 

Jinny's  buryin'-day, 

"Gaze  when  dat  po'  ole  wife  o'  his'n  wah  lyin'  dar  so  sick, 
'Lije  boas'  he  gwine  'o  ma'y  ergin,  an'  he  gwine  do  it 

quick; 

He  'lowed  he  'd  git  de  laklies'  gal  dis  ole  plantation  got, 
An'  on  Bro'  Simon's  Sally  Ann  I  seed  his  eyes  wuz  sot. 

"So  co'se  we  's  boun'  ter  reel  an'  jig  when  he  jine  frisky 

Sal, 

Caze  he  feelin'  moughty  shaky  'bout  gittin'  ob  dat  gal; 
Fur  it  wuz  jes  yistiddy  he  done  'fided  unto  me 
He  'd  no  mo'  sho  o'  gittin'  her  dan  cotchin'  ob  a  flea. 

101 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

"Dese  'hearsals  ob  de  'formance  is  de  bery  lates'  t'ing — 
Dough  Ras,  we  knows,  is  mastah  han'  to  cut  de  pigeon- 
wing — 
Caze  when  Marse  Dan  ma'y  Miss  Pauline  on  Chris'mus, 

don'  you  know, 

De  'formahs  'formed  deir  'formances  plum  froo  de  day 
befo'? 

"So,  Rasmus,  try  yo'  pigeon-wing,  an'  Billy  pat  an'  dance 
(Dat  warn't  yo'  best — now  onct  agin — I  '11  gib  you  nud- 

dah  chance), 
Fur  Marse  an'  Miss  '11  be  down  heah.    You  don'  b'lieb 

what  I  say? 
Ob  co'se  ole  Marstah  's  comin'  down  to  gib  de  bride 

away." 

******* 

'Tis  evening — and  the  cabin  glows  with  royal,  blazing 

fire, 

Which  dances  on  those  dusky  forms  in  gaudiest  attire; 
The  flames  roar  loud  and  sing  and  leap  far  up  the 

chimney  wide, 
A- welcoming  with  glowing  heart  Ole  'Lijah  and  his 

bride. 

Here  sits  Aunt  Vic — the  parson's  wife — her  next  Cas 
sandra,  then 

Is  Cleopatra,  whose  weird  charms  had  "cunju'd"  all  the 
men; 

For,  queen  amongst  the  dusky  swains — like  "sorc'ress 
of  the  Nile"— 

Mad  "Antonys"  she,  too,  had  won  with  her  alluring 
smile. 

102 


OLE    'LIJAH'S    WEDDIN' 

Black  Mammy  leans  in  easy  chair,  supreme  amongst  the 

rest, 
Her   dear   old   head   bandana-crowned,   and    'kerchief 

'cross  her  breast, 
A-chiding  now  those  giggling  girls — Rose,  Snowflake, 

Celestine, 
Diana,  Topsy,  Anarchy,  Rox  Ann  and  Josephine. 

Here  stands  the  coachman — Daddy  Dave — with  Jerry, 
Peter,  Paul, 

And  blind  old  Simon,  who  declares  he  's  "come  ter  see 
it  all," 

While  close  in  group  Erasmus,  who  will  cut  the  pigeon- 
wing, 

With  the  famous  Tom,  and  Billy,  to  pat  and  dance  and 
sing. 

And  foremost  in  that  smiling  crowd  the  Master,  tall 

and  gray, 
Steps  near  the  proud  old  parson's  side,  to  give  the  bride 

away; 
Whilst,  calm  and  fair,  ole  Missus  stands  among  those 

faces  bright — 
Like  star  amid  the  ebon  clouds,  aglow  with  softest  light. 

And  here  at  last,  through  titt'ring  crowd,  they  come — 

the  smiling  pair — 
And  stand  before  old  Parson  Bob,  with  white  and  bushy 

hair, 
Who  starts,  ere  he  commences,  and  gazed  with  puzzled 

look 

At  first  upon  the  dusky  groom — then  on  his  open  book. 

103 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

"Hit  'pears  ter  me,  mah  bredren,  dat  dere  's  hoodoo  in 

dis  bann 

Ob  mat'imony — caze  I  'low'd  tie  'Lije  ter  Sally  Ann — 
But,  'Great  King  in  de  mawnin'!'  is  mah  eyes  a-gittin' 

dim? 
Dis  heah  ain'  Bruddah  'Lijah — dis  sholy  cyarn'  be  him. 

"Fur  Gawd's  sek !  now,  ole  Marstah,  jes  tell  me  what  to 

do! 

Is  ole  Bob  goin'  crazy,  an'  gittin'  blinded,  too  ? 
Dis  heah  ain'  ole  Elijah — onless  he  tuk  a  strain, 
An'  gone  back  on  de  road  o'  life  an'  got  him  young 

again." 

With  smile  suppressed,  yet  beetling  brow,  the  Master 

glanced  aside 
At  the  sporty,  bandy-legged  groom,  who  claimed  the 

saucy  bride. 
"Where  is  Elijah,  girl?"  he  said.   "What  have  you  done 

with  him?" 

"Lawd !  Marstah,  I  done  change  mah  mind — I  gwine  tek 
'Fiddlin'  Jim.' " 


104 


AUNT  'LIZA'S  VISIT  NORTH 


103 


Aunt  Eliza  was  a  real  person  and,  just  as  she  states 
it,  made  a  real  visit  to  New  York. 

But  her  experience,  as  related  to  the  darkies  on  the 
plantation  after  returning  home,  should  prove  to  the 
over-zealous  philanthropist  that  the  South  knows  her  own 
children  best. 


106 


AUNT  'LIZA'S  VISIT  NORTH 

"Mv  Gawd !  I 's  home  agin.  Tank  de  Lawd !  I 's  back' 
once  mo'  on  de  ole  plantation. 

"I  jes  got  so  sick  up  Norf  dat  I  tells  Miss  Louisa  (you 
know  she  's  de  GinTs  wife  dat  sont  fer  me  ter  come  an' 
see  'em)  dat  I  jes  boun'  'o  come  home;  so  I  sot  out  yis- 
tiddy,  an'  de  Lawd  knows  dat  steam  hoss  couldn'  go 
fas'  enough  fer  dis  chile. 

"I  'low'd  de  tears  in  dese  ole  eyes  wuz  all  dried  an' 
gone;  but,  chillun,  when  I  seed  de  injine  a-slowin'  up  ter 
stop,  down  dar  by  de  pos'  offus,  I  'clars  I  fa'rly  couldn' 
see  an',  Lawd !  by  dem  mystificatioms,  how  near  I  come 
a-missin'  ole  'Possum  Pete.' 

"He  were  jes  a-shufflin'  out  de  do',  wid  de  mail-bag  as 
I  was  a-gittin'  offen  dem  steam  cyars,  an'  I  putty  nigh 
bus'  mah  ole  pipes  a-hol'rin'  to  him. 

"  'Name  o'  Gawd !'  says  I,  'old  Pete,  don'  you  go 
a-scootin'  back  to  de  plantation  'outen  me,  fer  I  's  been 
a-prayin'  to  de  Great  King  all  de  way  to  git  me  dar  some 
how  or  nuddah  dis  bressed  night ;  an',  sho  as  de  Marstah 
reign,  ef  here  I  don'  see  you  an'  de  ole  yaller  mule  jes  at 
de  'p'inted  time.  De  Lawd  sut'ny  do  he'p  de  chosen/ 

"But  how  is  you,  chillun?  An'  what  you-all  been 
a-doin'  sence  I  lef  you?  Is  ole  'Lijah  marr'd?  Is  Aunt 
Ca'line's  rheumatiz  done  tuk  her  off  yit?  An'  did  Brud- 
dah  Dan'l  go  'way  wid  de  army  men  ? 

"Well,  all  I  can  say  is — dat  any  niggah's  we'come  ter 

107 


DE  NAMIN'   OB  DE   TWINS 

go  up  Norf  'at  wants  to;  but  me,  yaas,  mah  Lawd!  dis 
chile  done  bed  enough. 

"Dey  meks  you  feel  so  kinder  out  o'  place  dar.  Wah, 
I  fel'  all  de  time  lak  a  cabbage  'at  some  fool  done  plant 
in  a  flower-pot — he!  he! — a-settin'  me  down  in  de  par 
lor,  a-waitin'  on  me,  an'  a-callin'  me  'Miss  Lewis/ 

"I  's  jes  lonesome,  I  tells  you,  chillun,  to  heah  some 
body  say  "Aunt  'Liza'  once  agin,  an'  I  tell  dat,  too,  to 
de  Gin'l's  fo'ks. 

"You  ax  how  come  I  go  up  dar,  Sis  Betty  ? 

"Well — you  see,  durin'  ob  de  war,  de  Yankee  Gin'l 
who  was  a-campin'  nigh  our  plantation!  he  come  heah 
an'  say  he  wan'  a  cook. 

"Well,  o'  co'se  he  gwine  he'p  hisse'f  to  de  bes'  ole 
Miss  got,  so  he  cont'aban'  me,  an'  tek  me  to  de  camp, 
whar  I  show  him — fer  de  fus'  time  in  'e  life — what  were 
fitten  fer  to  eat;  an'  dat  ar  camp  was  de  populouses 
place  erlong  de  line,  casin'  fer  ole  'Liza's  beat  biscuits. 

"Dey  neber  furgot  'em  nuddah,  fer  arter  de  Wah  I 
gits  a  lettah  (you  'membahs  dat  lettah  you  brung  me, 
don'  you,  Pete?)  wid  a  big  postum  stamp  on  it,  an'  hit 
bringin'  me  de  money  from  de  Gin'l  to  come  up  Norf 
an'  mek  a  visit  to  'e  wife. 

"He  say  he  want  me  see  de  big  New  York,  an'  de  fine 
people  up  dar  dat  set  de  niggahs  free. 

"So,  as  ole  Miss  done  daid,  an'  de  gre't  house  was 
a-settin'  dar,  lonesome  lak,  a-mournin'  fer  her,  I  got  ole 
Parson  Bob  to  write  de  wo'd  dat  I  'd  be  dar  at  de 
'p'inted  time. 

"So  I  gits  mah  black  satin  dress  fix  up — what  bin  in 
mah  chis'  dis  twenty  yeah  (you  'membahs,  Sis  Tabby, 

108 


AUNT  'LIZA'S    VISIT  NORTH 

dat  dress  ole  Miss'  aunt  gimme  dat  time  she  down  heah 
to  Marse  Bob's  weddin'?  Well,  dat  de  dress) — an'  de 
gray  imbr'iderd  shawl  'at  Miss  Matilda  she  done  lef 
me  in  de  wrill,  an'  de  pu'ple  bonnet  wid  de  green  feddah 
'at  Marstah  git  me  in  Petersbu'g  time  o'  de  barbecue. 

"Well,  ole  Pete  an'  de  yaller  mule  dey  tuk  de  HI'  ha'r 
trunk  down  to  de  train  (you  knows  de  ha'r  trunk  Marse 
Charlie  use  ter  hab?)  ;  an'  de  fus'  t'ing  I  know'd  I  was 
jes  a-ridin'  lak  de  white  fo'ks. 

"Now  you  ain'  goin'  b'lieb  what  I  gwine  tell  you,  but 
de  Gin'al  hisse'f  he  meet  me  at  de  landin'-place  (caze, 
you  knows,  I  's  too  good  a  cook  ter  git  los'),  an'  he 
start  to  put  me  in  de  kyarr'ge  what  he  brung  fer  me. 

"'De  Lawd  be  praised,  Gin'al!'  I  sez,  'git  in  fus' 
yo'se'f.' 

"  'Ah !  no,  Mrs.  Lewis,'  sez  he,  'we  don'  do  dat  way 
up  heah.'  So  in  he  han'  me,  jes  lak  I  's  ole  Miss — an' 
me  a-feelin'  lak  a  fool  all  de  time. 

"  'Now  you  sees  de  diff 'ence,  Miss  Lewis,'  sez  he, 
'  'tween  de  Norf  an'  de  Souf.  Yo'  ole  Marstah  wouldn' 
do  dis,  would  he  ?' 

"  'Great  King  in  de  mawnin' !  no,  sah — he  ain'  do  no 
sech  a  perceedin'  as  dis;  no  mo'  /  wouldn'  'a  done  it, 
nuther ! 

"  'What !  me  ride  in  a  kyarrage  wid  ole  Marstah  ? 
Lawd !  no ;  my  ole  Marstah  too  good  fer  dat — he  qual'ty, 
he  is !  Niggah  ride  afo'  to  dribe  'im,  an'  ahind  ter  open 
de  do'  an'  de  gate,  but  nary  one  dare  put  a  foot  inside 
dat  coach,  I  tells  you.  Ole  Unc'  Eli  would  'a'  skin  him 
to  def;  'sides,  niggah  's  got  too  much  'spec'  fer  hisse'f 
to  do  dat— he  wouldri  hab  a  Marstah  he  could  ride  wid !' 

109 


DE  NAMIN'   OB  DE   TWINS 

"He  neber  say  no  mo'  to  me,  chillun,  'til  he  git  to  de 
house,  an'  den,  I  tells  you,  he  han'  me  outen  dat  kyarrage 
moughty  quiet  lak.  Den  he  ring  de  bell,  an'  a  sassy 
yaller,  free-lookin'  niggah  open  de  do'.  He  look  kind  o' 
temptious  lak  at  me,  but  I  know'd  he  am'  neber  bin  use 
ter  nuthin',  so  I  kind  o'  'scuse  him,  in  mah  mind.  (Co'se 
he  ain'  neber  hed  no  young  Marstahs  an'  Missuses  lak 
we  's  had,  ter  show  'im  mannahs,  so  I  didn'  pay  no  Men 
tion  't  all  ter  him.) 

"Well,  chillun,  dere  ain'  no  use  in  my  goin'  no  furdah, 
'cep'in'  ter  say  dat  Miss  Gin'al  's  so  glad  ter  see  me  dat 
she  wen'  an'  done  gimme  her  room  (dey  was  all  lil'  bits 
o'  cut-up  places  no  biggah  dan  ole  Missus'  big  closeks), 
caze  she  say  'I  too  stout' — dat  what  she  call  it — 'ter  sleep 
on  de  parlor  couch/  an'  she  'ould  tek  it  herse'f. 

"  'Lawd !  Miss  Gin'al/  I  sez,  'let  dis  ole  fat  niggah 
sleep  on  de  fto' ;  I  's  done  it  many  a  time.  Why,  when 
ole  Miss  was  sick,  you  couldn'  dribe  me  'way  f'om  dat 
dar  pallet  what  I  med  down  by  her  baid — dat  was  my 
'bidin'  place/ 

"  'Oh !  no,  Miss  Lewis/  she  sez,  'you  '11  find  you  's 
wid  a  diff'ent  people  now/ 

"  'Yaas,  name  o'  Gawd !'  I  sez,  'I  finds  I  is/ 

"But  afo'  I  goes  to  baid  I  mus'  tell  you-all  one  mo' 
t'ing — dey  wan'  me  eat  at  de  table  wid  em!  But  ole 
'Liza  draw  de  line  dar,  an'  when  Miss  Gin'al  say:  'I 
knows  de  white  fo'ks  at  de  plantation!  neber  ax  you  eat 
wid  dem,  did  dey?'  I  bu'sts  out  a-takin'  up  fer  mah 
fam'ly.  'No,  marm;  o'  co'se  not!  Why,  mah  ole  Miss  's 
one  o'  dem  Cy-artahs  what  come  f'om  Shirley  on  de 

no 


AUNT  'LIZA'S    VISIT  NORTH 

Jeems !  Dey  hed  niggahs  by  de  hund'eds — de  bes'  qual'ty 
niggahs  in  ole  Virginny !  Dey  eat  wid  niggahs  ?  Lawd ! 
Miss  Gin'al,  how  you  does  'suit  me !' 

"Den  one  day  dey  tuk  me  down  de  bigges'  street  in 
de  worl',  she  say,  an'  show'd  me  all  de  sto's — or  shops 
she  call  'em.  Eb'rybody  look  at  me  an'  her,  an'  I  fel' 
lak  sayin':  'Dis  ain'  my  young  Mistis,  an'  please  'scuse 
her.  She  mean  all  right,  but  she  don'  know  no  bettah 
dan  to  go  'long  de  street— lak  a  ekal— wid  a  ole  niggah.' 
She  don'  know  dat  de  white  pigeon  an'  de  crow  am 
diff'ent  birds,  an'  ain'  got  no  business  a-keepin'  comp'ny 
togedder. 

"But  I  tells  you,  Sis  Nancy,  dey  don'  know  nuthin'  't 
all  up  dar  'bout  'stocracy.  Dey  says  eb'ry  man  's  alike, 
but  dat  's  a  lie,  fer  I  knows  I  neber  look  lak  some  o' 
de  onsightly  t'ings  what  I  seen  a-movin'  'roun'. 

"But  it  sut'inly  was  true  in  one  p'int,  caze  I  seed  de 
Marstahs  a-settin'  up  in  front,  a-dribin'  de  coachmans — 
bof  black  an'  white — while  dey — now  heah  me,  Lawd ! — 
was  a-settin'  behin',  jes  as  imperint,  in  reel  sto'  clo'es, 
wid  dey  han's  fol',  lak  a  image.  Umph,  umph !  dat  's  de 
time  dey  do  looks  erlike.  Dis  ole  'Liza  Jane  couldn' 
hardly  tell  'em  'part. 

"An'  I  neber  seed  nobody  dar  what  could  tech  our 
Marse  Rob,  nor  was  white  an'  putty  lak  Miss  Nancy.  But 
I  'spec'  de  qual'ty  was  outen  o'  town,  caze  I  didn'  see 
none  ob  'em. 

"De  womens  look  lak  de  pictur'  ladies  in  de  books; 
but  dey  was  kinder  rearin'  up  dey  haids,  lak  ole  Jane's 
Desdemony  use  ter  do  when  she  git  on  dem  Sunday 
clo'es  o'  her'n.  You  'membahs  dat,  Sis  Dinah? 

in 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

"An',  Great  King!  you  oughter  seed  de  niggahs 
a-struttin'  'roun'  in  dey  missus'  new  clo'es.  (I  knows 
nobody  am'  neber  wore  dem  clo'es,  caze  dere  warn't  de 
tech  o'  Time  on  'em.) 

"But,  I  tells  you,  de  kinks  in  my  ha'r  fa'rly  stud  out 
straight  when  dey  was  all  a-axin'  me  'bouten  de  ole  plan 
tation.  De  Gin'al  come  right  out  one  time  an'  ax  me 
did  ole  Marstah  eber  whup  any  ob  his  color'd  fo'ks. 

"  'No,  sah,'  I  sez,  'Marstah  he  hire  de  Norden  ober- 
seer  fer  to  do  dat  dutty  wuk  fer  him;  an'  mighty  HI'  ob 
hit  done  on  our  plantation,  I  tells  you.  Dey  warn't  but 
one  niggah  been  whup  dar  in  sebenteen  yeahs,  an'  dat 
was  ole  'Lijah  an'  he  were  whupped  fer  beatin'  his  wife. 
No,  sah!  Marstah  ain'  gwine  sile  his  han's.  He  's  de 
reel  qual'ty,  born  down  Souf,  right  on  de  plantation. 
Why,  he  ain'  neber  eben  bin  up  Norf !  He  's  reel  'stoc- 
racy,  he  is.  His  muddah  was  a  Randolph,  an'  her  mud- 
dah  was  a  Lewis!  Dis  fam'ly  o'  our'n  neber  'low'd  no 
sech  perceedin's.  Dey  was  good  to  dey  color'd  fo'ks, 
from  de  leas'  to  de  greates'  an'  f 'om  de  fus'  to  de  las'.' 

"An'  when  I  was  a-leavin',  de  Gin'al's  wife  she  say 
'Good-bye,  'Liza' — you  see,  I  teach'd  her  som'n' — 'now 
ain'  you  hed  a  good  time — ain'  we  treat  you  good  ?' 

"  'Lawd !  yaas,  'm,'  I  sez,  'mighty  good ;  but  den  I 
feels  all  'e  time  lak  you  hed  sot  de  fryin'-pan  on  to  de 
sideboa'd — an'  I  ain'  bin  use  ter  no  sich.' 

"Well,  den  she  call  dat  yaller  boy,  right  quick,  an'  he 
come  all  rigg'd  up  in  'e  bil'd  shut,  an'  brass  buttons  lak 
de  Gin'al,  an'  she  tol'  'im  see  me  to  de  train.  He  done 
it  an',  t'ank  de  Lawd!  my  visitatiom  war  ober;  caze  I 

112 


AUNT  'LIZA'S   VISIT  NORTH 

done  bed  'nuf  o'  dem  furriners  up  Norf  an'  de  free 
issue. 

"Afo'  I  lef,  Miss  Gin'al  try  to  'suade  me  ter  stay  an' 
cook  fer  her  (den  I  see  froo  all  dat  perliteness  I  bin 
a-gittin'),  but  I  tell  her:  'No,  I  warn't  a-lookin'  fer  no 
place  ter  cook,  dese  days/ 

"An'  den  de  Gin'al  ax  me  ef  He  warn't  good  ter  me  in 
de  camp.  'Yaas,  sab/  I  sez,  'but  dat  ain'  lak  cookin'  in 
de  kitchen.  I  wouldn'  enj'y  mab  cookin'  dese  days;  it  's 
too  difFent  f 'om  de  ole  times.' 

"He  ax  me  how  dat  was,  an'  I  tells  him  'at  down 
home,  whar  I  was  de  fus'  cook,  when  Miss  bed  comp'ny 
all  she  bed  to  do  was  to  say :  '  'Liza,  I  wants  dinner  ter- 
morrow  fer  thirteen,  instid  o'  five'  (dar  warn't  neber  no 
onlucky  numbahs  down  dar),  an'  I  'd  say:  'Yaas,  Missus, 
all  you  's  got  ter  do  is  jes  ter  leab  out  de  ingregiums.' 
An',  my  Lawd!  what  a  dinnah  ole  'Liza  'd  git!  My 
table  look  lak  it  'd  fa'rly  cry  out  wid  whaten  was  on  it: 
turkey,  ham,  croquettes,  cel'ry,  sour  pickles,  an'  dem 
sweet  pickles  what  come  f'om  Brandon,  ok'a,  aig-plant, 
salsify,  commartoses,  sweet  'taters,  an'  de  Lawd  knows 
what ! 

"An'  arter  Pomp  an'  Caesah  an'  Jonas  tek  in  de  dishes 
I  use  ter  run  in  f'om  de  kitchen  an'  tek  a  peep  at  dat 
table  afo'  de  white  fo'ks  git  dar.  An',  I  tells  you,  I  was 
de  proudes'  niggah  in  ole  Virginny  when  I  heahs  de  sil- 
vah  a-rattlin',  an'  de  dishes  a-clashin',  an'  de  glasses 
a-techin',  an'  de  ladies  an'  de  beaux  a-laughin',  an'  ter 
know  dat  it  was  ole  'Liza's  wuk  what  set  de  whole  t'ing 
off,  an'  kep'  it  a-goin'.  'No,  sah,  Marse  Gin'al,'  I  sez,  'I 
'clars  I  couldn'  cook  up  Norf  dese  days,  fer  de  way  dey 

"3 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

runs  t'ings  now  jes  natchelly  hu'ts  mah  feelings.  Caze, 
accordin'  to  de  raisin'  what  ole  Miss  gimme,  I  considahs 
dat  dere  's  entirely  too — much — shufflin' — ob — de — 
dishes — fer— de — littleness — ob — de — vittles.'" 


114 


DE  "YANKEE"  BUCKEYE 


"Bruddah  Dan'l,  is  dey  anywhar  in  de  Scriptuhs  dat 
dey  's  mentioni  med  ob  de  color'd  pusson  ?" 

"Why,  ob  co'se,  Bruddah  Johnsing — co'se  dey  is.  Ain' 
you  'membah  whar  hit  say  Nigger  Demus  come  to  de 
Lawd  by  night?  Dar  is  special  mentiom  med  ob  his 
'plexiom." 


116 


DE  "YANKEE"   BUCKEYE 

"GOOD-MORNIN',  Bruddah  Anderson,  I 's  glad  ter  see  you, 

sho; 

Jes  tek  de  rockin'-cheer,  an'  set  right  dar  aside  de  do'. 
I  's  awful  bad  wid  pains  ter-day — I  tells  you  what  it  is — 
Dese  Yankee  buckeyes  ain'  no  good  ter  cuah  de  rheu- 
matiz. 

"Down  home,  when  tech  o'  mis'ry  come — I  'membahs 

moughty  well — 

A  buckeye  f 'om  de  pastur'-lot  wuk  lak  er  cunjer  spell ; 
But  yarbs  up  Norf  's  plum  diff'ent  kind — leas'wise  so 

Selim  say — 
'Pears  lak  dey  ain'  know  how  ter  tek  de  mis'ry  erway. 

"Man  ole  man,  he  done  jes  step  out  ter  git  a  leetle  tea, 
An'  we  '11  be  proud  ter  have  you  tek  a  cup  wid  him  an' 

me; 
(Azcuse  dis  smokin'  chimbly-flue.    I  's  done  mah  lebel 

bes', 
But  de  Debil  sho  gits  in  'im  when  de  wind  is  f'om  de 

wes')." 

"I  's  called  in,  Sistah  Caryline,  ter  'spoun'  wid  you  ter- 
day, 

Kaze  I  fear  you  is  backslidin'  f'om  de  straight  an'  narrer 
way; 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

Ole  Bruddah  Hambone  's  eb'ry  night  a-'zortin'  us  ter 

grace, 
An'  you  ain'  holdin'  up  his  haris  by  showin'  ob  yo' 

face. 

"  'Pears  lak  you  'lows  to  tu'n  yo'  back  on  him  de  Lawd 

did  call — 
Dat  'lected  man,  choose  jes  de  same  ez  'Phesiums,  Job 

an'  Paul. 
So  at  de  meetin'  dar  las'  night,  ob  moanin',  pray'r  an 

praise, 
Dey  'low'd  dey  'd  drap  all  f'om  de  book  dat  don'  men' 

up  deir  ways. 

"Dey  's  down  on  Sis  Tabithy  Jones  fer  dancin'  wid  de 

men 

An'  a-gibin'  ob  a  shindig  to  de  Zion's  'uppah  ten' ; 
Dey  'lows  to  rein  up  Deacom  Brown  fer  goin'  to  dat 

show, 
An'  f'om  de  roll  dey  gwine  'o  drap  Sis  Lily  White  once 

mo'. 

"Dey  'clars  she  is  er  infidul,  kaze  dey  done  heah  her  say 
She  don'  belieb  de  whale  he  swallah  Jonah,  anyway ; 
An'  so  dey  's  gwine  'o  clean  'em  out — de  sinnahs  got  ter 

go— 

Bekaze  our  chu'ch's  'membah  book  mus'  be  ez  'white  ez 
snow.' 

"An'  so  dis  mawnin'  heah  I  is,  ter  'zort  wid  you  an'  pray, 
An'  wrastle  wid  de  Lawd,  dat  you  '11  limp  back  to  Zion's 
way, 

118 


DE   "YANKEE"   BUCKEYE 

An'  'seech  Him  gib  you  grace  to  shed  de  debilmint  ob 

sin, 
Dat,  lak  ole  Nicodemus,  chile,  you   mought  be  'born 

agin/  " 

Old  Caroline  a-kimbo  set  her  arms  with  easy  grace, 
And  fixed  a  pair  of  flashing  eyes  upon  the  parson's  face. 
(That  Yankee  buckeye  'd  done  its  work  as  well — 'twas 

plain  to  see — 
As  though  it  came  from  "pastur'-lot,"  'way  down  in 

Tennessee)  ; 

For  up  she  sprang.    "I  ain'  gwine  do  no  bettah  dan  I  is, 
Caze  jes  to  tie  me  down,  de  Lawd  He  sont  dis  rheu- 

matiz ; 

So  heah  I  sets  obejient — but  kind  o'  rastless,  too— 
A-mindin'  mah  own  business— lak  some  uddahs  bettah 

do.    .  ,: 

"Fer  dat  brack  man  I  got  no  use,  a-comin'  in  de  night 
Jes  lak  he  'shamed  ter  ax  de  Lawd  dat  questiom  in  de 

light. 

Ole  Missus  tol'  me  many  time  de  Debil  is  ter  pay 
When  fo'kses  goes  an'  does  by  night  what  dey  dar  n't 

do  by  day. 

"When  Nigger  Demus  heerd  dem  wo'ds:  'Ye  mus'  be 

born  ergin,' 
Dat  man  ain'  tekin'  in  his  mind  hit  meanin'  born  f'om 

sin. 

He  's  countin'  on  de  color,  an'  he  bustin'  wid  derlight, 
Caze  he  'low,  ef  he  git  borned  ergin,  he  mought  git 
bornded — white/' 

119 


DE  FAMBLY  TREE 


121 


The  habit  of  boasting  was  a  great  failing  amongst  the 
negroes  of  the  old  South. 

Plantations  vied  with  each  other  in  wonderful  tales 
concerning  their  respective  owners  and  families;  which 
tales,  through  ignorance,  were  unconsciously  so  magni 
fied  that,  to  a  person  of  reasonable  intelligence,  they  were 
most  absurd. 

"Uncle  Jeff,"  having  been  a  house-servant  in  palmy 
days,  when  the  establishment  was  maintained  in  lordly 
style,  had  heard  so  much  of  the  "fus'  famblies"  that  his 
old  woolly  pate  was  permeated  with  the  idea  that  good 
blood — like  cleanliness — was  next  to  godliness. 

With  such  belief  he  fully  justifies  himself  in  earnestly 
chiding  "Marse  Rob"  for  what  he  terms  "deesrespec' 
todes  de  Fambly  Tree." 


122 


DE   FAMBLY   TREE 

"I  TELLS  you  what  it  is,  Marse  Rob,  you  is  a  plum 
deesgrace  to  de  'fambly  tree !' — an'  dat  's  what  you  is. 

"You  ain'  keer  nuthin'  't  all  'bouten  dat  tree? 

"Well  now,  chile,  I  tells  you  it  's  high  time  you  was 
a-keerin',  kaze  dat  tree  is  de  mos'  'portantes'  t'ing  in 
we  's  fambly  dis  day.  Ole  Mastah  set  a  lot  o'  sto'  by 
hit,  kaze  dey  is  fo'ks  on  dar  who  sarbed  de  King,  time 
Marse  Cromwell  hed  his  haid  cutten  off.  Yaas,  I  's  offen 
hearn  tell  o'  dat. 

"Why,  Marse  Rob,  mah  dad  say  dat  ole  Marse's  gran'- 
pa — Marse  Alec — he  was — right — dar — on — de — spot — 
hisse'f — a-seein' — it.  An'  he  tol'  de  house  niggahs  on  de 
plantation!  all  'bouten  it,  an'  dey  's  brought  down  de 
story,  kaze  dey  'low  we  chillun  oughter  be  grafted  wid 
de  p'inted  facts. 

"An'  heah  you  say — yo'  pa's  own  chile — dat  you  don' 
keer — nuthin' — 't  all — 'bouten — dis — tree.  I  's  'shamed 
o'  you — I  sholy  is. 

"Now  what  is  you  a-laughin'  at,  Marse  Rob?  You 
sutt'inly  is  lef  yo'  mannahs  ahind  you,  up  dar  to  dat 
'Varsity  school  whar  you  done  been,  kaze  you  neber  use 
ter  laugh  lak  dat  at  ole  Jeff  afo'  you  mix  yo'se'f  up  wid 
dem  furrinahs  when  de  po'  ole  niggah  was  'temptin'  to 
'suade  you  to  trod  in  de  feetprints  ob  yo'  pa. 

"You  say  Cromwell  warn't  de  man  what  had  his  haid 
cutten  off? 

123 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE   TWINS 

"Now  look  heah,  Marse  Rob,  you  is  jes  'vadin'  de 
p'int;  fer,  wheddah  it  wuz  Marse  Cromwell,  or  de  King 
afo'  or  ahind  'im  mek  no  diff'ence  't  all  to  dis  story, 
kaze  ob  co'se  de  tale  may  hab  got  some  leetle  twisted 
a-comin'  down  de  line.  An',  I  tells  you,  de  gre't  fo'ks 
on  dat  squar'  o'  paper  dar,  dey  is  'shamed  o'  you,  too, 
an'  dey  'd  be  a-gittin'  down  offen  dat  tree  in  a  hurry — 
ef  dey  could — you  'haves  so  ongodly  an'  onrighteous  lak, 
a-goin'  dat  erway  agin'  yo'  fambly. 

"Don'  cher  know  dey-all,  a-roos'in'  dar  in  dem 
branches,  wuz  de  high-mos'  qual'ty?  An'  dat  when  dey 
come  ober  heah  to  ole  Virginny  dey  jes  hed  deir  ships 
a-loaded  down  wid  deir  silvah,  an'  deir  gol',  an'  deir  fine 
furmicher?  An',  honey,  dem  fo'ks  done  set  de  Gov'mint 
up  on  hit's  laigs  when  it  wuz  a  lettle  teensy-weensy  t'ing, 
too  weak  fer  to  stan'  aloney;  an',  afo'  de  King,  Marse 
Rob,  dey  'ouldn'  a-been  no  Niter  Stets,  ef  hit  had'n 
a-been  fer  dis  fambly.  (Dat  what  ole  Marse  tol'  me  one 
day — or  som'n'  lak  dat — when  we  wuz  a-ridin'  inter  town, 
me  on  ole  Bess,  an'  him  on  de  gray  mar'.) 

"  'Why,'  he  sez,  'ole  Virginny  she  jes  been  a-gibbin' 
de  country  presidints,  an'  j  edges,  an'  speakahs' — yaas, 
honey,  she  gib  'em  jes  ez  easy  ez  de  oak-tree  drap  de 
acorns.  An'  moughty  nigh  all  dem  's  on  dis  heah  tree 
what  we  's  'sputin'  'bout. 

"An'  den,  you  see,  chile,  ez  we  's  fambly  been  'bleeged 
to  tek  a  humblin'  seat  sence  de  wah,  it  am  heap  mo' 
'portanter  dat  we  all  sticks  by  hit  now,  an'  don'  cas'  no 
'spicioms  on  hit ;  kaze,  de  Lawd  knows !  we  is  hed  trouble 
enuf. 

"You  says  dem  ole  daid-an'-gone  codgers  didn'  know 

124 


DE    F AM  ELY    TREE 

eb'ryt'ing?  Dat  dey  brung  de  trouble  on  deyselves,  an' 
dat  de  Yankees  was  all  right  ? 

"Lawd!  Marse  Rob,  what  's  a-gittin'  you?  You  sholy 
is  1'arn'd  a  lot  o'  'strep'rous  idees  up  dar  to  dat  'Varsity 
college  whar  you  been.  Is  dey  teach  you  sech,  chile? 
Well,  honey,  dem  gemmens  I  'spec'  kin  Tarn  you  eddica- 
tiom  an'  sech  lak,  but  dey  don'  know  nuthin'  't  all  'bouten 
us — ob  co'se  dey  don' — kaze  dey  hain'  neber  libed  down 
heah — an'  quinsecontly  dey  don'  perzactly  onderstan'  de 
way  we  's  been  a-mixin'  de  colors. 

"An'  it  sutt'inly  do  hu't  my  heart  to  heah  you  a-goin' 
on  so  deesrespectum  'bouten  de  'fambly  tree.' 

"  'Scuse  me,  honey ;  'scuse  me,  Marse  Rob — ole  Jeff 
don*  lak  to  say  hit — but  you  sholy  cyarn'  be  yo'se'f  dis 
ebenin',  is  you?  Caze  I  'low'd  you  look  moughty  on- 
stiddy  when  I  seed  you  a-ridin'  up  de  lawn  jes  afo'  sun 
down  f'om  Fairfax  Hall.  Lawd,  Lawd!  he'p — my — 
soul!  de  debil  sutt'inly — am — in — dat — mint-patch! 

"Dis  heah  tree  what  we  's  got  undah  'scussiom  is  been 
a-bearin'  de  fines'  fruit  in  ole  Albemarle  fer  hund'eds  o' 
yeahs,  an'  you  ain'  gwine  'o  be  de  fus'  rotten  apple  dar, 
is  you,  Marse  Rob? 

"You  see,  honey,  when  ole  Marstah  die,  he  leab  de  rais 
in'  ob  you  to  ole  Miss — so  she  feel  moughty  'sponsibul 
lak.  An'  las'  Sunday,  when  de  light  all  went  outen  de 
sky,  at  de  same  time  de  life  was  a-goin'  outen  yo'  Ma, 
she  call  me  to  de  baid-side — tuk  me  by  de  han',  an'  say: 
'Jeff,  when  I  's  gone,  an'  my  boy  comes  home,  look  arter 
him — look  arter  yo'  Marse  Rob,  an'  beg  him  to  leab  de 
drink  alone.'  Dem  was  her  las'  wo'ds,  chile — sh*  as  de 

125 


DE  NAMIN'   OB  DE   TWINS 

King  reigns — an'  I  knows  dey  's  as  good  to  you  as  jinin* 
de  plaige. 

"An'  now,  Marse  Rob,  one  uddah  reason  why  I  don' 
wan'  you  deesgrace  dat  tree  is  kaze  I  was  a-consid'rin 
de  'spectability  ob  bein'  on  hit  mahse'f;  so  I  was  gwine 
ax  you  tek  de  pen  an'  wrote  down  dar — jes  by  de  roots 
— de  name  o'  ole  black  Jeff.  You  'd  bettah  wrote  it  in 
partic'lar,  Marse  Rob :  'Jefferson  Madison  Jones,  de  f aif- 
ful  sarvant  ob  ole  Marse.'  I  wants  you  do  hit  now,  afo' 
I  passes,  lak  ole  Miss,  froo  de  valley  ob  de  shadder — 
kaze  I  's  a-gittin'  erlong  in  dis  vale  ob  yeahs.  I  is  sarbed 
yo'  pa  an'  ma  mo'  'an  seb'nty  yeah,  an'  I  wants  hab  mah 
name  on  dat  papah,  'longside  o'  deir'n.  An'  you  need'n 
be  afear'd,  Marse  Rob,  to  write  mah  name  down  dar, 
kaze,  dough  I  ain'  nuffin'  but  a  'umblin'  sarvant,  ole  Jeff 
hain'  neber — yit — brung — no — deesgrace — on — de — fam- 
bly. 

"What  you  lookin'  at  me  so  cur'ous  lak  dat  fer,  Marse 
Rob  ?  You  ax  me  how  't  is  'bouten  mahse'f  not  a-bring- 
in'  'no  deesgrace  on  de  fambly'?  An'  huccome  I  not 
be  a-libin'  now  wid  Roxann,  nor  Susannah,  nor  Penelope, 
nor  Sal,  nor  none  o'  dem  'spousals  what  I  done  made  ? 

"Well  now,  in  co'se,  Marse  Rob,  you  is  techin'  on  a 
ser'ous  p'int,  an'  one  which  ain'  got  nuffin'  't  all  to  do 
wid  dese  'greemints.  Howsomever,  I  'lows  I  w  been 
a-swingin'  mahse'f  ruddah  free  an'  easy  down  de  line  o' 
mattermony;  but  den  you  knows  dat  dey  allus  wuz  a 
considerbul  'safety  in  numbahs,'  so — he!  he! — dat  's  de 
way  I  kind  o'  tuk  fer  to  protec'  mahse'f.  An'  asides, 
de  Angel  o'  Glory  couldn'  hab  lib  wid  none  o'  dem  dar 
niggah  'omen  what  done  pester  me  wid  dey  'tentioms; 

126 


DE    FAMBLY    TREE 

no  mo'  could  ole  Jeff,  who  don'  sot  hisse'f  up  fer  no 
sanctified  membah.  An',  Lawd!  Marse  Rob,  you  's  got 
eddicatiom  enough  to  'vince  yo'se'f  dat  in  some  ve'y  in 
considerate  pertic'lars  niggahs  don'  kyount.  Dis  heah 
'ma'yin'  an'  gibbin'  in  ma'iage'  'peared  to  me  lak  hit  was 
one  o'  dem  pertic'lars,  but  de  las'  one — dat  sassy  jade, 
Miss  Adeline  Tuckah — didn'  you  heah  'bout  her,  Marse 
Rob?  She  'low  dat  she  gwine  do  de  white  fo'ks'  ac',  an* 
she  gwine  hab  a  preachah,  an'  er  book,  to  tie  de  knot. 
(I  'spec'  she  think  ole  Jeff  slip  out  too  easy.)  Well  now, 
I  sho  is  afeared  you  '11  argify  dat  I  is  fell  f om  grace 
when  I  'splains  you  de  outcome  o'  dat  ma'iage;  but  she 
sont  Unc'  Eli's  Ned  fer  de  ole  blin'  parson,  down  dar  at 
Ribber  J'int,  to  come  an*  do  de  business  right. 

"I  was  kinder  skeered  when  de  preachah  he  come,  an' 
dat  gal,  all  fussed  up  in  her  bes'  clo'es,  'gin  a-sidlin'  up 
ter  me,  wid  a  lot  o'  niggahs  dar  ter  witness  de  perceed- 
in's,  she  say.  (Umph,  umph!  Glory  be  to  Moses!  ole 
Jeff  feel  he  sho  is  gone  dat  time.)  Well,  de  parson  was 
a-perceedin',  an'  I  felt  mah  knee- j 'hits  a-gibbin'  way,  an* 
mahse'f  a-gittin'  whitah  an'  whitah  wid  eb'ry  bref  I 
draws,  an'  a-wishin'  to  de  Lawd  I  was  outen  dat  box — 
when  ef  dat  blame  ole  niggah  ain'  ax  me  ef  I  tek  her  fer 
'bettah  or  fer  wuss'? 

"  'No,  sah,'  I  sez,  'parson,  not  yit,  caze  I  's  done  hed 
entirely  too  much  'speunce  in  dis  line  to  be  ketched  in 
dat  trap;  so  jes  lemme  tek  her  fus',  an'  gib  'er  a  trial,  an' 
den  I  kin  let  you  know  mo'  sartain  'bouten  dat  "bettah 
an'  wuss"  business;  kaze,  afo'  Gawd!  ole  Jeff  ain' 
a-gwine  run  —  nary  —  nuddah  —  resk — by — mekin — a — 
blin' — trade — wid  no  niggah  'oman.'  " 

127 


DE  LAS'  "WILL  AN'  TESTIMINT" 


129 


For  the  benefit  of  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the 
characteristics  of  the  old-time  Southern  negro  I  prefix 
these  verses  with  a  word  of  explanation. 

They  were  a  most  unaccountable  people,  for  their  own 
children  seeming  to  possess  little  or  no  affection,  while 
they  expended  a  wealth  of  love  and  tenderness  upon  the 
children  of  their  masters. 

In  the  matter  of  dying,  some  of  them  seemed  to  enjoy 
as  many  lives  as  a  cat — one  old  woman  being  known  to 
have  sent  for  her  mistress  nine  times  in  as  many  years 
to  say  the  last  good-bye. 

The  incident  of  the  bosom-pin  is  a  true  one,  also  the 
willing  of  the  cabin  to  Marse  John. 


130 


•3  |- 

ft* 


.£    o 


N  a 
B 


DE   LAS'   "WILL   AN'   TESTIMINT" 

"COME  in,  Marse  John,  an'  please,  sah,  set  right  heah 

aside  de  baid — 
Down  dar  whar  I  kin  see  you,  'out  de  raisin'  ob  mah 

haid — 
Caze  I  wants  you  write  de  testimint  I  's  gwine  'o  gib 

you  now, 
Afo'  I  feels  de  dew  o'  Def  a-sottlin'  on  mah  brow. 

"You  fotch  de  pen,  did  you,  Marse  John,  de  papah  an* 

de  ink? 
Well,  Heb'nly  Marstah !  gib  me  grace  to  cl'ar  mah  haid 

an'  t'ink; 
Caze  afo'  I  goes  I  wants  you  bof — you  an'  Miss  Nancy, 

too — 
To  heah  dese  partin',  dyin'  wo'ds  I  's  boun'  to  tol'  to 

you. 

"Yaas,  praise  de  Lawd!  I  '11  mek  mah  will  while  I  is 

got  de  bref, 
Fur  I  am'  lak  de  Squire  who  'clar'd  a  will  wuz  courtin* 

Def— 
An'  so  he  feer'd  to  drap  de  line,  to  leab  his  leabin's 

right, 
An*  when  de  Debil  tote  'im  off  dere  wuz  dat  scan'lous 

fight. 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

"Dis  un  want  dis,  dat  un  want  dot,  ob  what  de  po'  man 

lef; 
Tears  lak  dey  all  wuz  stan'in'  'roun'  afo'  he  done  los' 

his  bref. 
An'  what  de  eenin'  ob  dat  fuss? — when  he  guv  up  de 

ghos'— 
De  bery  wuss  one  in  de  lot,  Marse  John,  he  got  de 

mos*. 

"I  's  offen  writ  mah  will  afo',  when  Def  he  'pear  to  me, 
But  dis  's  mah  las'es'  testimint  de  worl'  will  eber  see ; 
Caze  dis  time  I  is  sholy  gone.    I  seed  it  in  de  night, 
When  a  visium  come  an'  tech  me  in  a  shinin'  robe  o' 
white. 

"I  ain'  got  much  to  leab  behin',  de  Lawd  in  Heben  knows. 
Mah  specs,  dese  yaller  beads  I  w'ars,  mah  chist,  mah 

Sunday  clo'es, 
Mah  blue  kid  glubs,  de  Injy  shawl  Miss  Nancy  done 

gib  me, 
An*  dis  littl'  pictur',  by  de  baid,  ob  Marstah  Gin'al  Lee. 

"Dis  is  de  one,  you  know,  Marse  Phil  he  gib  to  me  dat 

day 

Afo'  he  tuk  'is  gran'pa's  s'ord  an'  rode  so  fas'  away ; 
Lawd !  I  kin  see  mah  chile  right  now,  an'  heah  him  say 

good-bye, 
An'  oh  mah  cheek  kin  feel  de  teah  a-drappin'  f'om  his 

eye. 

"De  w'arin'  t'ings,  you  kin  write  down,  I  '11  leab  to  ole 

Torm's  Bess, 

Caze  she  is  allus  treated  me  heap  bettah  dan  de  res' ; 

132 


DE   LAS'   'WILL   AN'   TESTIM1NT" 

She  's  tended  to  de  gyardin-patch,  an'  med  man  mullin 

tea, 
When  nary  nuddah  ob  dem  gals  'ould  do  a  t'ing  fur  me. 

"Mah  pictur'  heah  ob  Gin'al  Lee  I  ain'  gwine  gib  away, 
Caze  I  wants  hit  risin'  wid  me  on  de  Rassurrakshum 

Day; 

So,  arter  I  is  laid  out  in  mah  ole  black  satin  dress, 
Jes  put  hit  lak  a  bosom-pin,  right  heah  upon  mah  breas'. 

"An'  now,  Marse  John,  I  Js  comin'  to  de  p'int  I  wants  to 

mek — 

An'  dat  is  'at  mah  cabin  you  won'  let  no  niggah  tek ; 
I  gibs  it  back  to  you,  Marse  John,  lak  you  gib  it  to  me 
Dat  Chris'mus  Day  you  tol'  us  dat  me  an'  Dan  wuz 

free. 

"I  couldn'  res'  good  in  mah  grabe — I  'clar's  afo'  de 

Lawd ! — 
Ef  I  know'd  dat  big-mouf  Venus,  or  dat  Angelina 

Maud, 

Wuz  gwine  'o  lib  whar  /  is  libed,  or  sot  whar  7  is  sot, 
An'  use  fur  dey  own  glorymint  de  t'ings  what  I  is  got. 

"You  say  dey  is  mah  chillun,  an'  dey  's  got  de  lawful 

right? 
Look  heah,  Marse  John !  I  b'liebs  I  is  some  bettah  now 

to-night. 
Dis  miz'ry — in — de— back  's  nigh  gone — so  put  dat  pen 

away, 
An'  we'  11  mek  out  dis  testiwmf  agin  some  uddah  day." 


133 


MAMMY  SUKEY'S  BURYIN' 


135 


Almost  every  Southerner  can  recall  a  "Mammy  Su- 
key,"  some  faithful  old  negro  whose  affection  for  her 
master's  family  was  only  offset  by  their  love  and  devo 
tion  to  her. 

The  old  mammy  of  whom  these  verses  tell  was  a  real 
character,  and  her  "buryin'  "  a  true  incident. 

She  came  from  Virginia  to  Missouri  in  1818  with  a 
grandson  of  Governor  Page  and  lived  an  honored  mem 
ber  of  his  family  for  more  than  sixty  years. 

Over  the  household  she  exercised  a  gentle  authority, 
and  her  cabin  was  the  "city  of  refuge"  for  "de  chillun" 
when  threatened  with  punishment  for  repeated  offence; 
yet,  woe  betide  the  little  woolly  head  who  fell  beneath 
the  ban  of  her  displeasure. 

She  passed  away  in  1880 — and  was  laid  to  rest  in  the 
cemetery  at  Lexington,  "jus'  at  Marse  Robert's  feet." 


136 


MAMMY   SUKEY'S   BURYIN' 

I  STAND  beside  a  time-worn  grave,  with  headstone  old  and 
brown, 

O'er  which  the  clinging  ivy-leaves  most  tenderly  have 
grown. 

I  part  them  with  a  careless  hand,  to  see  the  name  more 
clear, 

And  "Sukey,  faithful  nurse  and  friend,"  I  read  deci 
phered  here. 

The  grave  is  in  the  Master's  plot,  just  at  the  Master's 

feet, 

And  villagers  oft  love  to  tell,  in  accents  touching  sweet, 
Her  last  request:  "Lawd!  chillun,  ole  Mammy  could  die 

glad, 
Ef  she  know'd  she  'd  hev  a  'buryin' '  jes  lak  ole  Mastah 

had. 

"I  want  you  tuck  me  in  de  groun',  jes  at  Marse  Robert's 

feet, 
l)at  when  de  King  o*  Glory  come,  His  bressed  Sain's  ter 

greet, 

Me  an'  ole  Marse,  a-lyin  dar,  togedder  we  shall  rise, 
An'  flop  our  wings — white  wings,  my  Lawd ! — to'ds  man 
sions  in  de  skies." 

137 


DE  NAMIN'  OB  DE  TWINS 

And  then,  with  sigh,  toward  the  light  she  'd  turned  her 
wrinkled  face, 

Whilst  mellow  beams  from  evening  sun  lit  up  the  hal 
lowed  place ; 

For  Christian  soul,  its  warfare  o'er,  had  entered  into 
rest — 

And  Mammy's  hands  they  folded  then  upon  her  quiet 
breast. 

And  so,  when  from  that  cabin  home  the  spark  of  life  had 

fled, 
The  "chillun"  decked,  with  garden  flowers,  her  narrow 

casket  bed ; 
And  then  the  Master's  stalwart  sons,  down  through  the 

wood  and  grove, 
Bore  the  black  Mammy  who  had  shared  their  childish 

joy  and  love. 

And  here  the  same  old  village  priest,  in  spotless  robe,  had 

read, 
With  solemn  tone  and  moistened  eye,  the  "Burial  of  the 

Dead." 
While  to  the  darkies'  plaintive  dirge,  with  wailings  wild 

and  long, 
The   whip-poor-will   and    mocking-bird  had  lent  their 

mournful  song. 

And  so  they  laid  her  tenderly  where  she  had  wished  to 
be— 

At  foot  of  "ole  Marse  Robert's"  grave,  beneath  the  wil 
low  tree. 

138 


MAMMY  SUKEY'S  BURYIN' 

And  then  this  modest  stone  was  raised — just  like  the 

Master's,  too — 
To  mark  another  noble  life  to  God  and  man  most  true. 

And  now  die  golden  sun  at  morn,  with  warm  rejoicing 

light, 
And  soft,  pale  moon,  witH  milder  beams,  throughout  the 

silent  night, 
Enfold    the  little  quiet  mound  where  "Mammy"   lies 

asleep, 
While  tender  flowers  and  ivy-leaves  their  loving  vigil 

keep. 

Oh,  woman!  Shafts  around  thee  mark  the  resting-place 

of  men 
Who  may  have  won  that  bauble  "Fame"  by  sword,  or 

voice,  or  pen ; 
But  never  o'er  their  costly  biers  flowed  children's  tears 

more  sad  • 

Than  those  shed  at  that  "buryin*  jes  lak  ole  Mastah  had." 


THE  END 


139 


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